Early Frost
by EmeraldSeiji
Summary: Almost at his majority, Legolas feels he is ready to join the guards, much to the dismay of his parents. Two new chapters.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello again everybody. Here is another installation of my NaNoWriMo from last month. This follows my last one shot "The Birth of a Leaf" but you don't have to read that one to understand this one. The events of this story take place only a few years before Legolas reaches his majority, so he's at that stage where he wants to be an adult but isn't just quite yet.

WARNING: This is a much Darker and more serious work than my last one. If you want something happier and lighthearted, look elsewhere.

Disclaimer: I do not know any of the recognizable characters, nor the location, I am just borrowing them for a little fun on the side.

An Early Frost

Chapter 1

"LEGOLAS" the loud cry rang throughout the garden. The voice of Allaryia, the Queen of the Greenwood was full of worry for her missing child. "Legolas, please," this cry escaped as more of a loudly whispered plea coming past the mother's lips. Her voice gained strength once more as she approached a large oak tree, one of the true ancients of the forest, and a well known favorite hiding place of the young crown prince of the Greenwood. "Legolas, it is time for this game of hide and seek to be over," she commanded more forcefully as she peered into the well hidden branches of the ancient oak, looking for her wayward son. "Allow some time for both you and your father to cool off from your argument and then talk to him once more. You are still young, and in training. Please, please consider what he is saying. I understand your wish to help protect Greenwood, but please, at least wait until you have reached your majority to join the guard. Your father understands. Every time there is a skirmish he fights with himself in order to stay here, safe with you and me, for the good of the kingdom. Please, just come down and come back to the closer gardens at least."

The more she pleaded, the more panic joined in with her voice. Truly, Queen Allaryia knew that being so close to the edge of the forest was becoming more of a danger as time went on. The secluded garden that had once been a safe haven for the royal family to get away from the stresses of the court, now was a fairly risky place to visit without an escort due to the rising number of orcs that could have gotten past even their most elite guards. Beyond that she had heard the conversation that had taken place directly before the argument that had been held between her husband and son which caused her son's disappearance, and her worry was justified. A large number of orcs had been spotted headed towards the palace. In fact a debate had been being held between the King and his advisors on whether or not to move the family from the treetop palace into the safety of the forest stronghold until the newest threat had passed. Thranduil's main reason for his resistance was his son's intense claustrophobia no matter the size of the cave. Legolas had unfortunately missed this argument in his eagerness to convince his father to allow him to join the guard as he had heard the muster to protect the heart of the Greenwood. The two of them were so alike each other, that all it took was the slightest comment against what he wished for the prince's temper, which he hadn't learned to control very well yet, to flare to life sending them both into a rage that was so characteristic of their 'discussions'. In truth the Prince and the King loved each other fiercely, caring to the point that it was almost painful at times.

"Please, Little Leaf. Come back with me," she said softly, tears springing to her eyes, "Come home with me. Let us go find your father. He is sure to have fallen into melancholy after your fight. The only thing that will make him smile once more is the possibility that you will be able to forgive him."

A soft rustle of leaves coming from the bushes behind her resulted in a quick intake of air and a startled jump and turn. She then saw the lithe figure of her son standing in the bushes holding his bow with his twin long knives strapped to his back along with a full quiver of arrows, and dressed in durable clothing made out of thick leather that could double as light armor. A grim look crossed his pale features and determination flashed through his jewel green eyes. Allaryia shook her head in denial and whispered, "No, no, dear Valar, no." She stepped forward, quickly closing the space between herself and her son, taking his young, angular face, that looked so much like her own between her hands. "Legolas, please, do not do this. Listen to the wisdom of your father for at least a few more years. Wait to join the guard, please, for me at least. I can't loose you." Tears came into her generally warm chocolate colored eyes as her son remained stiff in her embrace.

"Naneth, I must. It is my duty as prince to protect Greenwood. I have to help the guard in any way possible to help stop the threat to the wood. I know that neither you nor father understand that, but I really can help. I can outshoot all the novice archers as well as most of those that are centuries older than I, at least that is what everyone tells me. If I cannot trust those in the command chain of the guard to evaluate my skills, than whom may I trust?" His voice remained distant, but his true feelings were expressed through his eyes that had caught those of his mother and were pleading beyond what the eloquence of his words had the ability. "Please, Nana, allow me to do this."

Allaryia lowered her hands slowly from their position on her son's face and shook her head slowly, before saying, "I am sorry, my son, but I cannot allow you to do this. If you leave this garden, I will follow, it does not matter where you are headed, I will go along." She smiled bitterly at the look of disappointment that flashed through his expressive eyes even though his face remained impassive. "If you are confident enough in your skills to protect the both of us, continue as you wish. However, if you show any of the good sense that is required to be part of the guard, you will turn around and head back to the palace, return your weapons to your room, and then we both shall visit your adar in his study for the evening meal."

Legolas's face finally showed some emotion as it fell, pain and disappointment creating a heartbreaking expression upon his noble features. "I am sorry, Nana, but I cannot do that." His eyes then sprung to the side of the garden that was farthest from the palace compound proper before he grabbed his mother's arm and pulled her behind him without a word. He drew an arrow from his quiver and prepared his weapon. "Naneth, please, return to the palace and send guards. I will guard your path and hold them off for as long as I can."

Just as Allaryia was turning towards her son to question his words, when she too heard the loud crashing coming from the underbrush surrounding the peaceful garden. Worry lit her eyes and she slipped one of Legolas's knives out of its sheathe and stood just slightly to the side and yet still behind him with the weapon at the ready. "I am afraid that I cannot allow you to stay here making a stand on your own. I will assist you in fighting them off. The guard knows that I was on my way here, they should be here shortly, we must only last that long."

Legolas nodded glumly, his mouth fixed in a serious line as his sharp eyes caught sight of his first target, which was then brought down without question, the only reaction shown in the prince was a paling of his features. "As you wish Naneth. I fear that it is too late to make any changes in our plans as of this moment."

The time for talk was then over as Legolas' attention was stolen by many more dark targets revealing themselves from the dense cover of the forest underbrush. His arrows, distinctly fletched in brown with gold veins, flew through the air in a thick cloud, each finding its mark and successfully bringing it down. Unfortunately, he felt his quiver quickly growing ever lighter as the bodies of the enemy piled under the eaves of the forest while no sign of reinforcements came from the direction of the palace. His face grew grim as he felt but five more arrows in what was once a completely full quiver and as he continued his seemingly endless assault on the invading orcs he spoke once more, "Nana, I am afraid that these monsters shall have to fall to knife work. I love you." His last arrow then flew through the air at one last target taking it victoriously through the eye, dropping the dark skinned orc with its sharp barb invading the cranial cavity. He quickly set his bow upon its harness at his back and with a practiced flick of his wrist unsheathed his second ivory handled, sharp knife, the bright blade shinning in the dappled sunlight of the once perfect garden.

Behind the young prince he heard the worried voice of his mother whisper, barely above the noise of the seemingly endless incoming party of orcs, "Valar protect us," just before he met his first enemies in hand to hand combat. Legolas felt his fear rising when he heard the rough, throaty laughs of the orcs as they approached, accompanied by what he could only assume where taunting statements being shouted in their own black tongue. He fought to contain his fear in order to do what he knew he must: protect his mother at all costs, he didn't think that his father could bear if he lost his wife, his light and hope in the world. This passed through his mind in the smallest of moments before he was forced to move quickly to parry an orc sword, sliding in the enemies guard just far enough to be able to slit the unprotected throat of the monster. In the midst of the battle, his nose crinkled in response to the rank smell of the gore that now coated his bright knife. This apparent discomfort lasted but for a moment as his attention was forced once more to survival as another enemy stepped in to take the place of the one that he had already felled. He felt himself fall into a sort of trance, reacting to the actions of the enemy, parrying each thrust, taking opportunities as they were presented to him, and making opportunities to bring down the monsters as quickly as possible. He was vaguely aware of several blows that were successfully landed, but as they were not serious in any way, he shrugged them off and did not allow them to affect him as the adrenaline rushing through his veins acted as a natural pain killer. After the several of the orcs fell in front of him, they began to mill about, preventing him from protecting his mother anymore, no matter how he tried. They came from all sides, but after the battle had been drawn out for what seemed like ages to the prince he realized, novice though he was, that they were not taking the opportunities presented by holes in his guard from having only one of his twinned blades. His mind quickly put two and two together, these orcs weren't trying to kill him, they were trying to capture him.

He heard his mother cry out in pain, and it stole his concentration away from the battle, and as he glanced back, he saw that Allaryia had taken a serious blow to her shoulder, and had sunk down to her knees, appearing to be fighting valiantly just to remain conscious. As his attention was broken, he felt an impact on his left shoulder that had enough force behind it that he stumbled forward momentarily, and when he straightened once more he felt a stabbing pain. In response, he forced his grip on his knife to tighten, thankful only for the fact that he was holding it with his right hand. He turned back to his foes and continued his fight just as he started to hear that first signs of the guards arriving to aid their royals in their battle. He heard his mother's exclamation of recognition of the guard captain, Tiercel, just as his vision of the battle field began to grow blurry, darkness beginning to encroach on the edges as he felt his consciousness beginning to stray. His actions began to take a more frantic note as his enemies began to land more debilitating blows, including a deep wound to his right forearm that cut all the way to the bone and resulted in him dropping his knife, his only protection. He gasped at the sudden burning pain and against all his drilled instincts, he dropped to his knees and cradled the newly injured limb as well as he could with the limited range of motion in his left arm. As he moved his left arm, he felt whatever was embedded in his shoulder grate against his shoulder blade, pulling a pained moan past his lips against his will. "Legolas!" he heard his mother's voice cry out behind him as he felt a sharp pain in the side of his head and sank into darkness.

Alaryia's eyes widened in fear as she saw her son distracted by her own injury, and then his frantic fighting after he stumbled forward. Dismay rose in her heart as he turned back to their foes as she saw a nasty black arrow protruding from his back. Her sharp ears then picked up the sounds of battle being joined, and hope began to override the fear in her heart when she recognized the figure of Tiercel, the captain of the royal family's personal guard fighting his way fiercely towards the surrounded mother and son. "Tiercel!" she cried out and saw recognition shine in his piercing blue eyes as her cry alerted him to the exact location of those he was searching for. Her attention then turned back to her son, whom she was alarmed to see dropping to his knees, following the action of his newly fallen knife into the blood soaked dirt at his feet, cradling a freely bleeding wound on the arm of his primary hand. He was in trouble. After a cursory glance, she could not see where the knife she had been using had fallen, but her effort turned out to be in vain, as she saw a particularly large orc raise his sword and strike her son in the temple with the pommel, effectively sending him to the realm of unconsciousness.

"Legolas!" she cried out to him once more as she saw his limp form slump directly into the arms of the large orc that had dealt the last blow to her son. She desperately tried to gain her feet, grabbing any blade that came to her hand and rush the direction the orc was disappearing through the rest of the thinning crowd of the enemy. She was dismayed when she was forced to the ground by the iron-shod foot of a fleeing orc, an exclamation of surprise leaving her lips and forcing the air out of her lungs at the same time. Only a moment later, she felt strong hands turn her over onto her back, and she found herself looking into the clear blue eyes of Tiercel.

"Milady," he said in his clear tenor voice, not even breathless from the exertion he had just put forth in the course of the battle. "Breathe easy for a moment. As soon as we have these orcs finished off, we will get you to the healing halls."

"I am fine, Captain," she asserted only somewhat breathlessly, still regaining her breath from not only the trampling she had received, but also from the extended battle that she had been fighting before aid had come to their rescue. "If need be, I can take myself to the Healing Halls, it is far more important that party of orcs is followed. They have my son, and your crown prince. This cannot be allowed."

"Milady, please calm yourself," the guard captain said soothingly while his sharp eyes took in the queen's wound, assessing its seriousness, "As soon as possible, we will go after Prince Legolas. I never meant that all of the guard would accompany you to the Healing Halls, that would be folly." A small smile found its way to his lips at the small jest, trying to chase away, at least in part, the tension of the battle from his queen, who never should have found her way to the battle field in the first place in his opinion. "Tathan will accompany you while I lead the rest to follow the orcs' trail. Have no fear, we will find the prince, and bring him back as safely as possible." He then helped Allaryia to her feet and provided a steadying hand before calling Tathan over and giving his specific instructions as well as his message to the king that should be delivered as soon as the queen had been delivered to the capable hands of the healers in the Healing Halls. After being answered in the affirmative that the novice guard understood his orders, he watched as the queen was led back towards the forest stronghold.

After walking only a few feet from where she had begun she turned back to the trusted guard captain, her chocolate eyes large and tear filled, "Bring my Little Leaf back to me Captain. Please."

He nodded briefly answering, "Fear not milady, he will be home as quickly as we can manage," before motioning for the rest of the guard to gather near him for their orders. When they had gathered near he began quick and concise, "We follow the yrch. They have taken Prince Legolas, and it is imperative he is returned. Last I saw he had been wounded severely in several places so time is of the essence more so than usual so he may be healed." He then sent two of his company ahead to scout their path while the rest, including him, formed up into a marching order, giving the scouts enough time to get ahead of them. The clock was running, and it certainly was not in their favor, it was their duty to race against the odds to catch up.

A/N: There you go, chapter one. As always I welcome any comments that you want to pass along, including flames. I sincerely ask that if you find errors, please let me know, I will get them fixed. I hope you enjoyed it! R/R


	2. Chapter 2

WARNING!!: This chapter contains torture! If this is a topic that you are uncomfortable with, than hit the next button. Just the knowledge of torture occurring should be plenty to understand the following chapters.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the following characters, I am only borrowing them for a while before they will be returned.

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Early Frost

Chapter Two

Legolas began to come back to his senses only to hear large amounts of commotion coming from all directions around him and felt absolute terror raising within him as he remembered the events leading up to his loss of consciousness. His emerald eyes flew open, only to quickly close once more as he caught sight of a heavily mutilated face of an orc mere inches away from his own, close enough that he could not only smell, but also feel the warm, rancid breath on his face. His eyes flew open once more as he felt a blade of cold metal touch his skin, accompanied by the sound of tearing material and leading to him feeling the slightly chilled breeze upon his skin. In front of his face was still that of the orc, but now it had a smile stretching across its black lips filled with an evil glee.

"Ah, look boys, our new toy has decided to join us after all!" he said, deliberately using Westron instead of the usual Orkish so that it could be clearly understood by the young elf. "What say we have a bit of fun before he is looked for by his supposed friends." A few more slices of the blade revealed his torso to the company, and to finish its removal the wicked arrow was ruthlessly pulled from his back viciously. Legolas cried out in pain at this action and writhed on the ground as blood once more flowed freely from the wound of his back.

The next moment he froze until he was as still as a statue because he felt that loathed blade return once more, this time at the lacings to his breeches. "Look at how he freezes! It is almost as he is afraid of something!" the orc mocked, drawing wicked laughter from his companions, pausing long enough to laugh loudly before bringing his face within millimeters of the elf's, "Do not worry, _elf_," he spat, "If you cooperate this need not be nearly so painful." He then ran his black tongue all along Legolas' the side of his face causing the young elf to shrink as far as he could into the ground at the same time as the knife cut through the leather lacings and began its work on the rest of his garments. The orc returned to his ear, "But please, struggle. It will make this so much more enjoyable for me." It then bit into the side of the delicately pointed ear, drawing blood and drawing forth a brief whimper from the prince as he felt himself bared for the entirety of the orc company. The torturer turned to his companions briefly, and the terrified elf saw several of them move away as if to take the position of sentry before he was brought back to his circumstances by a burning slice cut across his thigh, directly above his knee.

Legolas bit his lip in order to avoid making any sound of discomfort, which only garnered a vicious smile from the torturer. "Look Boys! We have a brave one on our hands!" he exclaimed with a laugh before following the first cut with another and another, spacing them only centimeters apart, his joy rising at the whimper that escaped the tightly pressed lips with each cut after the second. He made slices all the way up the lithely muscled thigh until he placed one directly on the skin of the angular plane of the hip bone. "Ah, most beautiful," the orc's voice was filled with scathing sarcasm, "Your bright red blood against the white of your skin, but I'm afraid that I shall have to make cuts on the other leg as well otherwise we shall ruin your symmetry and we all know how much elves love their symmetry." The whimpers of pain grew into groans as the prince drew blood from his own lip from the strength with which he was biting it. By the time the orc had made a perfect mirror image on his second leg, tears had begun to trace their faint silvery tracks across his high cheeks. "He can deal with pain well, boys!" the torturer cried to his fellows only to be met by their jeers.

Show him what agony is!" one of the voices called out from the crowd, only to be met with approval by the rest of the crowd.

The torturer leaned directly over the princes face and looked him straight in the eye. "Agony, huh?" he said softly, almost as if to himself. "I believe that may be arranged." He then grabbed a large handful of dirt, and ground it into the gaping wound on his arm, bringing forth a muffled yell from the prince as he bit through his lip, adding to his own pain. He then felt the knife cutting his skin once more, this time the tender skin of his abdomen and he could no longer hold back expressions of his pain, much to the happiness of the orcs. With a grin the torturer moved his next slice slightly lower as he moved his free hand to the elf's back. "Now it is time for the true fun to begin!" A third slice came still lower at the same time the orc's claw like nail groped its way into his anus, and a strangled yell came from his throat as the finger as hooked and pulled back out with a flow of blood. "I see that he likes that!" was exclaimed from the crowd and an even larger jeer was spread across the black, thin lips of the torturer as he answered, "We'll just have to give him more of what he wants than! Perhaps with just a little more!" He then repeated his action from before, cutting a line slightly lower, skipping the area surrounding his navel, cutting into the sensitive skin of his lower abdomen while forcing three fingers into the small opening at his back pulling an actual yell from the paling lips. The pain and blood loss was now converging on the young prince's awareness as his eyelids began to flutter, the comforting blackness of unconsciousness beckoning promisingly from beyond his awareness.

The torturer saw this and mocked, "Oh look, our game is to tame for this elf of high adventure. We shall have to make this more exciting for him." He pulled from his belt, what Legolas guessed was a kind of weapon that he had never seen before. It looked like a cross between a dagger and a metal stake that was about half a centimeter in diameter and was sharpened down to a sharp point at its end while the rest was rounded as well as being long enough that it appeared as if it would come close to piercing him through the shoulder if not making it all the way. Legolas began to struggle beneath the heavy body of the orc, and with only a small motion, two of the spectator came forward and forced his shoulders down to the ground. With a grin the wicked metal spike was jabbed through the pressure point located directly above the collar bone. A scream tore from his lungs as he felt the cold metal drive all the way through his body accompanied by a burning sensation in the muscles around the puncture. As soon as his first scream had faded into the air, the spike was removed, and just before he could breath in relief, the spike plunged back into his flesh, pulling forth another, louder scream that caused his generally fair voice to crack and disappear. He felt this happen many times over, the location moving from both his shoulders down his arms and even through the lower lobe of his ears. By then Legolas' senses seemed to have been dulled by a combination of pain and loss of blood, and finally succumbed to the call of unconsciousness, sinking into darkness.

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, but this seemed the best place to break between chapters. So, as a bonus, and because I have had a long time to work away from the internet, the next chapter is also up. Drop me a review if you would like, it would motivate me to work faster, as well as helps me to improve my writing, I am very open to any suggestions that you may wish to make.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

An Early Frost

Chapter Three

Tiercel and the elite guards traveled quickly on the trail of the raiding orc party, pushing themselves to their limits in the hopes that their speed would save their beloved prince. Tiercel felt his dread rising as the tracks showed sign of slowing and stopping barely five minutes down the path, almost as if they knew and expected to be found. The air was then rent by a yell of pain in a voice that was clearly their prince. With a sharp glance the guards drew their bows, ready to strike from a distance as soon as they were within range. As they saw the sentries at the edge of the orc camp just as a scream of agony rang through the trees, followed immediately by another scream with the voice cracking into nothingness. Arrows were released and orcs fell to the ground dead without a sound allowing the elves to approach the center of the encampment silently, killing more of the enemy as they went before they finally came across the core party of orcs circling a single area. The rough sound of laughter and jeers sent chills through the spines of all the elven guard as their enemies were dispatched without trouble. They had come across the enemy so quickly and silently that none of the monsters were able to draw weapon against them. The most unnerving happening was at the end of the battle.

The large leader of the orcs stood from his position on the ground, just in front of where Tiercel was sure that Legolas was laying inert upon the cold ground. An evil grin spread across his blackened, foul features revealing yellowing, sharp teeth and a laugh escaped his lips before he began to speak to the elven captain. "You were quick in your approach, little good it has done for you or who you were coming to protect. The Necromancer sends his regards to Thranduil Elf King along with this little present." The orc then raised his dagger, already red from spilt blood, and slit his own throat, taking the opportunity for revenge away from the elven guards. His now limp body fell back, directly on the pale, unconscious body of the prince behind him, and the forceful addition of his deadweight pulled a broken groan from the tortured lips of the prince.

Tiercel felt horrified by what he saw when he caught sight of Legolas beneath the now dead orc. "Check the area, make sure no more remain," he heard his voice command without a thought and he continued, "Lindë, stay here and help me with the prince." Without question his commands were followed by the others and the dark haired Lindë mirrored his moves to remove the dead weight from their unconscious prince.

They were both horrified when they recognized the fact that Legolas was unclothed for all to see, and nothing of the torture was left to the imagination as they took in the wounds upon the pale body, with more being revealed as they removed the offensive form of the orc. Gently they removed the metal stake that was still protruding from the prince's shoulder releasing along with it a sluggish flow of blood and a look of discomfort on the pallid features. The only result that their inspection had was to raise the worry in their hearts as they saw the many, many wounds along the entirety of the elf's body that should have been freely bleeding had slowed into a sluggish flow showing that he was at dangerous levels of blood loss. "We must hurry. I fear for his recovery should he not reach the healers soon." He took his own cloak off his shoulders as his eyes took in the tattered remains of the fine clothing Legolas had been wearing when he had left his chambers in the palace lying on the ground only feet away, past the point of the hope of repair. He gently picked the beloved prince off the ground and gently cradled the limp body in his strong arms, concerned at the moan that escaped the pale lips at the movement.

Lindë looked at the broken body with concerned eyes, and lifted the cloak momentarily in order to check the arrow wound that they knew was present on his back and he gasped in shock and surprise. With a somewhat shaking hand he reached down to an area that Tiercel could not see, and with a brief look of indecision made a pulling motion, his action causing the young prince to writhe weakly in the strong arms, mouth opening in a motion that looked as if he were trying to audibly make known his pain and discomfort, but had no voice left to express himself. Tiercel held the prince more tightly, whispering soothing words into the prince's ear as the copper haired head lolled limply onto the lightly armored shoulder of the trusted guard captain that he had known since his earliest days of childhood. After a moment the rest of the guards returned ready to guard the way of the captain and prince as they returned by the quickest route to the Healing Halls at the forest stronghold, knowing them to be better protected than those at the palace, even though the prince would have to be moved after he returned to awareness due to his claustrophobia. Tiercel locked eyes with Lindë, silently commanding him to silence over the exact state of their prince as well as the nature of the entirety and seriousness of his injuries. Out loud he asked, "You have kept what we found?" He received a nod in return and his answer was to turn in the direction of the palace compound and say, "We run," before his feet took him at a run towards the direction of home as swiftly as was possible.

"Milady!" came a surprised exclamation at the sight of the queen entering the Healing Halls from the Senior Healer Gwilwileth. The silver blonde healer took in the queen's injuries with an experienced eye, seeing at once that they were not fatal, but were serious enough that if not treated soon, they could very well become more serious. She immediately escorted the queen to a bed, releasing Tathan with a nod, her brusque bedside manner taking over as she began talking to her patient, "What has happened milady?" She began to peel back the queen's clothing at the shoulder to probe the deep stab wound. After making sure that there were no foreign objects in the deep wound, she began to split herbs to place on the wound to promote quick healing before binding it with clean white bandages.

"I followed my son to the outer gardens after he quarreled with Thranduil once more about joining the guard. While I was trying to convince him to return with me to the palace the orcs that we had received word of earlier this day came upon us. I fear that I have come out of the conflict more favorably than he," the queen answered almost mechanically while her wound was treated most efficiently by her friend of many years.

Gwilwileth quickly finished the bandaging of the wounded shoulder while she listened to the queen's answer and in order to hide her concern she turned away to brew a pain killing potion while she took a deep breath. Once she had control of herself once more she asked, "And where is Prince Legolas now? I assume that I shall seeing him shortly at the very least."

At this a sob burst past the queen's lips as the tears she had been holding back since she had seen her only child carried of by the hands of the foul band of orcs. "They took him 'Wileth," she sobbed burying her face in her hands, tears flowing just as stubbornly as she had been holding them back previously.

Gwilwileth set down the herbs she had been working with, letting her assistant take over the brewing of the potion with but a look of instruction and returned to the queens side, consciously sitting on the uninjured side and wrapping a caring arm around the thin shoulders. "I am sure that Tiercel and the guards will have him back before you know it. He will be fine. Legolas is as strong as he is brave, stubborn, and mischievous."

Her comforting was interrupted when the door to the Healing Halls was thrown open with such force that it almost slammed back into the tall, golden figure that had flung it open. "Alaryia!" the baritone voice called out as he gathered his wife into his strong arms. "It soothes my heart to hold you in my arms, Beloved." He tightened his hold on his treasured wife, the love of his life, as she buried her face in his shoulder allowing her tears to flow freely, no longer attempting to hold back the feelings that she had been fighting against since her son had begun to fight against the forces of darkness. "Tiercel will have our Leaf back before you know it. He has never failed me since he and I trained together. I trust him with my life as well as Legolas's."

"He is injured, love," she whispered sadly, "He is in pain, and is not here to take comfort in our arms." Her tears then began to flow more freely once more.

"Shh, Beloved." He comforted gently, running his hand tenderly through her mussed copper brown hair, attempting to soothe his own nerves as well as her own. "Our Little Leaf will be back in our arms before you know it." He looked up and caught Gwilwileth's eye. Within the depths of his emerald green eyes she saw the remorse and guilt that he was feeling at the last words he had shared with his beloved son, those of insult and furious anger. The healer could tell that her king was trying with all his massive will to hold back his own fears at the wounding and abduction of his son in order to better comfort and support his wife. His feelings of guilt at driving his son to the gardens with their argument made him appear as if the weight of blame for his family's hurts lay upon his shoulders.

The assistant healer lay a hand gently on Gwilwileth's arm and held the mug of pain killing tea out for the master healer before leaving the chamber to enter one of the other various rooms of the elaborate healing halls in order to give them a little privacy while they dealt with the worry of the abduction of the beloved prince. The healer gently placed a hand on the queen's shoulder and said gently, "Milady, I know that this is not a very convenient time, but I know that you are in pain from the wound that you took to your shoulder. Here is a tea that will help to dull the pain and allow you to rest in order to regain your strength. When you reawaken your son will have returned and be resting as well. He will need you at your best to help him to recover from his wounds as well."

Alaryia looked at her friend in a similar fashion as if she had suddenly grown extra heads with the topic the healer had just brought to the fore of conversation. At the look on her face, Thranduil felt a gentle smile spread across his features, "Come now, Beloved. Gwilwileth knows what it is she speaks of as there is a reason she has became the youngest master healer in the history of the woodland realm. The more rest that you receive now, the more prepared you will be when Legolas is recovering and attempts to escape his chambers as you know that he will. He has never been a very good patient or at having patience at his own weakness." He pressed a tender kiss to the pale forehead of his beloved wife as she reluctantly accepted the mug of pain killing tea and she began to sip the tea silently, pulling a face at the extremely bitter taste of the potion. As she finished the final dregs of the tea Thranduil gave her a tighter comforting squeeze around her shoulder. "That's a girl," he whispered gently, running a hand down her hair.

"Our Leaf will be home before you know it. He will be safe and I swear that I will do all within my power to make sure he stays that way." He cradled her gently in his arms, whispering calming, soothing words to his love until the potion had taken its full effect, first only causing her eyelids to flutter as she resisted sinking into the blissful call of sleep. With only a few moments of humming the same lullaby that he sang to Legolas when he was a small elfling, her eyes closed and her breathing evened out and deepened, signaling that she had truly sunk into the realms of sleep. Thranduil gently lay her back onto the bed where they had been sitting, arranging her comfortably on the many pillows that were available so that her rest might have the greatest aid in her recovery. As he ran a hand gently over the newly care worn forehead a sound alerted both him and Gwilwileth to the arrival of another patient, Thranduil allowed the hope to rise in his heart that this was his friend Tiercel returning his beloved only child safe to his arms where he could ask for forgiveness for the harsh words that he had thrown without a thought or care at the effect that they would have.

The door opened to reveal two standing figures, one cloak less, laden with a burden covered by the cloak that obviously had been about his own shoulders and the other opening the door with care and worry lined on his youthful features. Thranduil rose to his feet immediately recognizing who it was coming into the healing halls. Exhaustion, worry, and care were all present in the face of Tiercel, and the novice Lindë's own features mirrored those of the captain, as well as just a tint of fear tinged pity as his eyes fell upon the pallid still features of the prince. Gwilwileth immediately jumped into action and silently directed the captain to bring the elfling to one of the operating tables, knowing that the prince's injuries were much more serious than those she had treated on the queen, and would lead to the loss of more blood, so she wanted to preserve as many of the hall's linens as possible, knowing the initial treating would result in the most loss of blood while in the halls and no longer on the battlefield. Carefully Tiercel lay the prince on the appointed table and the king came to his son's side as the healer gathered many of the supplies that she would need for sure for the treating of the as of yet unseen wounds of the young elf. Thranduil carefully placed a hand against his son's pale, chilled cheek as if to assure himself that the small figure was truly there.

At the warm touch of the loving hand a small moan escaped from the pale lips of the prince and the emerald eyes slowly blinked open blearily only to catch sight of his father. "A-ada?" he whispered brokenly, his voice barely audible to even the acute elven healing of the king who was but inches away from him.

"Shh, it is alright 'Las," he said gently, moving his hand to smooth the copper hair, so much like his mother's, back from the bruised forehead, long fingers carefully avoiding the bright bruising of his temple where he had been struck unconscious. "You are home now, and I will take care of you."

Legolas seemed to only make sense of the fact that he was home and that his father was the one that he had awoken to see, as he once more whispered, "Ada…I'm sor-rry." Before a single silver tear streaked across his features trailing from the pain filled emerald eyes down the sculpted cheek bone and then down to the pillow settled gently beneath his head. His return to consciousness lasted for but a moment longer until another small, pained moan escaped from his blood-drained lips and his pain-dulled eyes slipped closed once more into blessed unawareness.

By this point Gwilwileth had gathered all that she knew she would need and found her way to the prince's side just as his eyes were closing once more. "Milord," she said quietly, haste evident in her gentle voice. "I need to treat Legolas now, before he slips any further away from us."

He moved back only inches from his former position at this command. "I wish to be here, Gwilwileth. I must know that he will be alright," he almost pleaded with the healer eyes showing the true depths of his emotions, heart breaking sadness plain in the emerald eyes that he had passed on to his son.

"As long as you do not get in the way of the healers, you may stay," she said gently before giving him a stern look and her voice turning to a darker shade of command, "I reserve the right to tell you to leave should you become too emotional by what you see left upon your son's skin by those filthy orcs."

Thranduil's face slipped into the neutral mask that he wore when in court and nodded has acquiescence as he moved back farther from the surgery table, allowing room for three more healers to take their place alongside Gwilwileth.

Without wasting anymore time, she pulled back the cloak covering the prince's battered body. No matter their combined experience at the treating of wounds, winces were seen from all the healers and even Thranduil at the sight of the injuries on the prince's upper torso alone. More bloody gashes were revealed as the heavy material was pulled back carefully inch by inch in order to keep it from pulling at the wounds that had begun to scab over and causing them to bleed once more. Horror passed over the Healer's faces as they began to gently clean the various wounds with clear water, gently removing the marks of battle and torture from the pale skin that had been unmarked before this point and would never be again. Gentle fingers began stitching the deep, gaping gash on the right forearm after checking to make sure that there was no chipping or breakage of the bone that was revealed, as others meticulously tended the knife slices along the well toned thighs and hips, and still others tended the holes in the shoulders that were left by the metal stake wielded by the orc torturer, and the last began to stitch the slices on the lower abdomen that had gone deeper and threatened more than the others caused by the knife. They then needed to treat the wounds at his back without putting any strain on the multitude that they had already treated on his front. His father stepped forward and lovingly and gently lifted his son into his arms to allow the healers room to work.

As the number of wounds being treated now was reduced to only one, Gwilwileth released the other healers and tenderly cleaned the arrow wound herself, gently putting several stitches in the skin not only to promote proper healing but to also stop the blood that was still feebly fighting its way through the torn flesh. The clean white bandage was then neatly fixed in placed and Thranduil carefully lowered his son back down onto the surgery table and rose once more to his feet, only to see the healer look at him puzzled. He raised a blonde eyebrow and looked down at himself only to see a dark stain on his pants where he had been supporting the lower parts of his son's body, and he gently touched golden fingers to the damp splotch and they came away red with blood. Horror lit his eyes even though his face remained impassive as he gently raised his son's body once more, this time lifting him from his repose completely, standing so that Gwilwileth could see what new injury this blood was coming from. A quick intake of breath confirmed the elf king's suspicion as to the whereabouts of this new wound, and the healer quickly retrieved a salve from one of the shelving units, spreading it on her fingers and began to apply it to the area while the king kept his eyes on his son's face. This new treatment managed to raise a response from the prince where the rest of the healing had brought forth not a single murmur. This tore even more at the king's heart as his beloved son's tears leaked out of eyes that became tightly squeezed shut as the discomfort roused him from his unknowing reprieve with memories of what had been done to him.

His unrest was noted by the kind healer whose eyes were filled with sadness as she had to continue to add to his discomfort, no matter how unwillingly. The aching father did his best to calm and reassure his son. He cradled the broken body as gently as possible while manipulating the head to find the comfortable nook created by the joining of neck and shoulder fiving him the ability to hide from whatever foes he may be feeling looking at him and began to murmur gently in the ear, opposite of the one that looked as if it had been bitten by the enemy at some point during his abduction. "It is alright my son. You are home and being looked after. No more harm shall come to you 'Las." His heart ached as he felt tears soak through his heavy court robes to wet his skin. It was unsettling to feel the tears and yet have his son remain completely silent even as his body held such tension and pain that he should have been expressing in some way other than the falling tears. Gwilwileth then moved back to notify the king that she had finished the treating of wounds for the moment and she then retrieved a white robe from the linen cupboard and with the strong arms to help her they managed to drape it around the prince's thin shoulders before they took him to the bed that neighbored his mother's, gently propping him up with the multitude of pillows to relieve as much strain from his wounds as possible before covering him with several soft blankets to keep him warm.

As he lay there, as comfortable as they could manage to make him, his eyes opened from their tight seal and locked with those of his father once more, sadness and remorse filling their depths. Before any word could be spoken by either of the two Gwilwileth returned from her momentary absence with a mug of tea that she raised to the prince's mouth, encouraging to drink its contents. He barely made it halfway through the liquid when his eyes fluttered closed once more and he was unaware of the world again.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think or if you find any mistakes. I can't fix them or improve if no one lets me know their opinion.


	4. Chapter 4

Early Frost

Chapter 4

Thranduil sat down on his son's bedside heavily with his guilt apparent in his green eyes, unshed tears making them seem to twinkle in the candlelight of the healing chambers. A discrete clearing of his throat alerted his king to Tiercel's remaining presence and without looking up from the relaxed features of his son, he began to speak almost mechanically, "I thank you for returning my son to me, my friend."

Tiercel stepped forward to his king's side and placed a hand on the king's shoulder as if to pass him strength from the captain's seemingly endless store. "My lord, I bear you the words of those who took your son however briefly." The look of pain in the emerald eyes was as if a knife stab to his heart but he continued anyway, "The one who appeared to be the orc party captain was the one who did the torturing of prince Legolas. The distance at which they paused for _entertainment."_ the word was fairly spat from his lips, "was just far enough away that they knew we would come on them when they were in the midst of their distraction. As we brought down his companions he turned to me and said 'The Necromancer sends his regards to Thranduil Elf King along with this little present.' He then took his own life, something that I have never seen an orc do if he could take any other being along with it. I am afraid of what this may mean, My King."

The golden king was silent for a moment, pondering the news that had just been given to him by his most trusted captain. He then began speaking while still keeping his eyes fixed on the bedside of his son, "I shall ponder these tidings you bring me while I keep my vigil." He then looked up at his friend, "Go now, Tiercel, wash away the signs of battle from your skin as I know you want. Before you then take your rest if you could have someone bring me paper, quill, and ink, I would be most thankful."

Tiercel immediately recognized this for the dismissal that it was and with a nod of his head, turned on his heel and left the chamber to do as his friend and king had asked of him.

The king sat quietly in the silence of the Healing Halls in a comfortable chair that had been moved to sit between the beds of his son and wife while he was keeping his lonely vigil over the two most important people in his life. He split his attention almost unthinkingly, and when one of his attendants brought him writing utensils that he had requested he very thoughtfully began to compose a letter, but the first question he had to answer was to whom was he going to send this news? To the White Council? Perhaps eventually, but first he had much more important matters to handle, the healing of his wife and son. Quietly, he set the paper on the floor and turned to his wife. With loving hands he smoothed back her copper locks and pressed a kiss to her smooth forehead. The contact roused her from her rest and with a small yawn her eyes refocused into awareness and a small smile crossed her lips at the sight of her loving husband's face. "Mmm, my love," she said tenderly and carefully cupped the side of his face with a pale hand, her soft touch sending shivers through the king's nerves. They stayed still for a moment before Alaryia seemed to remember what had happened before she went to sleep and she hurriedly asked, "Did they find him? Is my Little Leaf alright?"

Thranduil carefully smoothed her hair back as he quietly answered, "Shh, Beloved, all is well. Tiercel and the guards have delivered our leaf back to us and Gwilwileth and the healers have done all they can for his wounds. He is resting now."

Her eyes went wide and accusation immediately took light in her warm brown eyes, "Why are you not by his side?" she exclaimed, her voice becoming stronger as she continued, "He needs you more than I! Why are you still here, Thranduil? Go to his side, Now!"

Thranduil made a motion to quiet her once more when he was interrupted in his plans. A soft moan and shifting in the bed clothes to the king's other side. A hoarse whisper, barely above a whisper was heard, "N-naneth?...A-ada?" Thranduil immediately shifted in his chair to his son's side and smoothed back the copper hair that was so much like his mother's, and he heard Alaryia raise from her bed tenderly to take her place on their son's other side, gently running her fingers over the back of his hand in a motion that she hoped would be comforting.

"We are here 'Las. We are both here and always will be," Alaryia gently spoke, continuing her motions.

Both Thranduil and Alaryia felt terrible for disturbing their son's rest when they saw his eyes slowly close once more, the seriousness of his injuries fully hitting home as the emerald depths stayed hidden beneath the sunken eyelids as only elves in need of the greatest healing rested. Almost immediately the tortured features twisted from the relaxed pose they usually took in rest into a look of terror. Alaryia carefully began to smooth back his copper hair and gently whispered nonsense into his ear, trying to calm him without waking him. Thranduil moved his hands down to hold his son's hand to try to give his son some of his own stores of strength. With nary a thought he once again began humming the same lullaby that he had been humming to his wife earlier that afternoon, slowly beginning the words as the two parents worked together to try to calm their wounded child, but to their extreme dismay their attention seemed to only worsen the disturbance in his mind as he began to weakly thrash in the bed. Worry rose in the king's chest and he bolted from his chair running into the chamber where the healers had retreated in order to give some privacy to the royal family.

"Gwilwileth," he said, panting slightly from the panic that he felt filling his chest. "Something is wrong." He then hurriedly ran back into the chamber where his son was now thrashing with all the small bit of strength that he had in his thin, tortured body, and the stark white bandages were beginning to show stains of red where he had torn back open his multiple wounds, one by one. Very gently Thranduil lifted his son's body into his arms and cradled him carefully, just as he had during the initial treatment and he sang the old lullaby one more time as his strong arms with strained his son, heart breaking at the silent throes of his son's nightmares. With gentle hands, Gwilwileth once more began to rebind the wounds and stop the bleeding, as well as trying to assess all the bloody holes that had been torn into his young, pale flesh.

After the passing of several minutes that seemed to stretch into lifetimes the prince had been returned to calmness, and was lying once more on the cot he had begun this portion of his ordeal on. The king stood at Gwilwileth's side and looked towards her for what he was hoping was positive news. She looked him in the eye solemnly passed on the only words that she knew to say, "I have done all that I can do for him. I am sorry, my king, all we can do now is treat the pain that he is feeling." She then bowed slightly and one more left the room. Silence governed the room, only the soft, slightly uneven breathing of Legolas lying skin even whiter than the clean linens on which he was laying.

Alaryia stood and went into the arms of her loving husband. "There has to be something more that we can do to help him. Anything, Thranduil. Anything," she said forcefully into his robes that now held an array of bloodstains from where he had been holding his son.

"I know, love," Thranduil whispered into her hair, feeling resolve rising in his chest, his question from earlier, no matter how hard a blow his pride would take in the follow through. "I shall write to Elrond. He is the best healer on this side of the sundering sea. I will send two letters, one to Imladris, and one also to Lothlorien where last I heard he was visiting the lord and lady with his children." He pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head and released his hold, returning to the writing utensils that he had set down earlier, and began to compose his letter.

_Elrond Peredhel,_

_I know that in the past years relations between the Greenwood and Imladris have been less then friendly, but this letter finds me writing not as the lord of a mighty nation, but rather as a father, which I hope you will understand after having children of your own. My son was captured earlier this day and tortured in the worst way I have ever seen. While my healers are talented in every way, he is beyond their aid. I know not what else to do other than to write you with my insufficient words and implore you to come to my home, in the heart of the Greenwood, and do what you can to help him. I do not expect relations between us to be healed instantly after the long years of discontent between us, but the time has come for me to swallow my stubborn pride and offer my promise that I will do everything I can to heal relations in the coming seasons. All I implore is that this is the beginning of that healing of relations. Please, come help my son. If this is all you do for me in all the long years that make up our lives and that of the entirety of the foundations of Arda, it will be more than the amount necessary to make me completely change diplomatic relations with Imladris. I am begging you, I know not what I shall do if I should lose him._

_Thranduil Oropherion_

_King of Greenwood the Great_

After the careful penning of these words, he repeated them on a fresh piece of parchment and carefully rolled them into scrolls that could easily be carried by the messengers before looking up back up at his wife. "I shall return momentarily. I must send this message by post immediately so that it may reach Elrond in time to be of any help to us." Reluctantly, he left the room, having to restrain himself from dashing through the halls to reach his study, which would be extremely against all rules of etiquette. Once there, he rang for one of his attendants to come and summoned two of his fastest, most trusted messengers, and sent them on their way, with the strictest orders to travel as fast as possible and bring aid as quick as they could. He then returned to the Healing Halls and took up his position at his son's side, mentally trying to prepare himself for a long, worrisome vigil.

A/N: Sorry this one's shorter, but it seemed like a good place to pause. My thanks to daisymall13 for the review, it's great to know that someone is reading! Let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Just so you know _italics_ take place in Legolas' mind.

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, who is not me, so obviously, I own nothing.

Early Frost

Chapter 5

The days under the boughs of the Golden Wood were peaceful, the air itself soaked in the very majesty of some of the oldest trees in Arda as well as full of memory. Elrond stood on the edge of the talan he and his family were given for their use when they visited the golden wood, and allowed the fragrant breeze to waft through his midnight hair which he had yet to tie back in his traditional braids. This trip was exactly what he was in need of, he had buried himself in his duties for far too long following the death of his wife. The time that he had spent both to himself and reconnecting to all three of his children had allowed his heart the time that he needed to heal. While he was sure that he would never truly get over the grief he felt at the sailing of his wife and mother of his children, but he felt sure now that he was at peace enough to fulfill his duty until his work in Arda was complete. He had tarried here long enough, it was time for him to return to his home and once more take up the mantle of leadership.

"ADA!" startled, he looked down to see Elrohir standing beneath the tree holding the talan, and was calling for him like an elfling with a crush. "THERE'S A MESSENGER. HE HAS COME BEARING A MESSAGE FOR YOU."

Elrond raised one of his sculpted eyebrows momentarily in confusion, who would be sending him a message at a time like this? He had every confidence in the abilities of Glorfindel and Erestor to take care of any crises that may take place in Imladris, Cirdan would have sent a message to his home first, and it would have been dealt with by his seneschal and advisor, he was in Lorien, so it couldn't be from Celeborn or Galadriel. His options were growing short. Intrigued he shouted back down to his son, "I WILL BE DOWN MOMENTARILY." He then quickly fastened his hair back in a single thick braid just as was customary for his sons, and quickly descended the ladder to the forest floor, before walking with the younger of his twins towards the center of the city.

He was surprised by what he saw when Elrohir led him towards where the messenger was waiting with Elladan. The messenger sitting with his elder son was dressed in the colors of the woodland realm, he was from Thranduil, the one elven ruler that he did not have regular contact with. At his entrance the messenger rose to his feet and immediately pulled a scroll from his belt and handed it directly to Elrond's hands. The elven lord sat down and unrolled the scroll and began to read the formal script, horror rising in his chest as he read further down the page. He read it through twice making sure he had not made any mistakes before he looked up at the messenger and asked, "Is the state of Greenwood as dire as what this letter makes it seem?"

"I am unsure as to what My King has written, Sir, so I do not know how to answer. I do know that when I left there was a great worry weighing upon my king's heart."

Elrond nodded, worry flying through his storm gray eyes, "That answers my question to its entirety." His eyes flicked to the figures of his sons and said, "Go, pack our bags as quickly as possible. I shall speak with your grandparents, we will leave as soon as you have finished." He then rose to his feet and made his way towards the ruling talan to speak with the Lord and Lady of the wood, much to the confusion of his sons, but they turned quickly to do as he bid.

Within a quarter of an hour the small party, made up of the messenger from Greenwood, Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir, was on their way. They traveled with all speed, only resting for the horses as Elrond pushed the group as much as he could, worry rising in his chest with each passing moment, calling him forward ever faster to the ever increasing confusion of his sons. Three days later they rode through the gate of the forest stronghold where the three Imladrian elves were left by the messenger, and instead were greeted by a golden blonde elf in stunning green robes cut in the manner favored by the sylvan elves, and he greeted them as they dismounted. "My Lord Elrond! Welcome to the Greenwood, you and your sons. My name is Galion, I am steward to King Thranduil. I am sorry that he is not the one to come greet you, he is a little…preoccupied. Please, come in, I will show you to quarters where you and your sons will be able to rest from the road and clean off the dust from travel. When the king hears of your arrival, I am sure that he will join you for the evening meal." His unsure state of being was clear with the rushed and then pauses at unknown information that his mind was connecting while he was making his speech, proving his intelligent mind and eloquence that made him an efficient member of Thranduil's court, and that he had earned his position in the government of the Greenwood, not just having it given to him due to connections he may or may not have had at the time of his appointment.

"Pardon the interruption, Lord Galion. But perhaps I can shed some light as to our presence here in Greenwood. You lord sent for my aid, and I came as quickly as I could. If you could take me to wherever he may be, I will offer him my assistance in any way possible. Then you may show my sons to their quarters." He used his experience well in order to do away with the confusion that the steward was doing his best to hide, knowing that unexpected visits by members of society that were not friendly with the person they were visiting were always unsettling for one that does not know the reason for the visit.

The golden haired steward nodded his understanding, before motioning for the other three elves to follow him, and they willingly did so. They walked quickly through the stone corridors, avoiding the most populated hallways of the strong hold where the elven court took place daily, and they soon arrived at their destination: the Healing Halls. "Here is where you will find the entire royal family. And I pray you, Lord Elrond, please do all you may for our prince or I fear that we will lose both the queen and king as well, which would be a hard blow in these dark times." He then turned to Elladan and Elrohir and continued, "If you would follow me, I will show you to quarters where you may take your rest."

"Thank you sir," Elladan began addressing Galion.

"I am sorry," Elrohir broke in, falling back into the patterns of speech that they had established when they were young and in stressful situations.

"But we would like,"

"To stay and help our father."

Galion's eyes widened with a slight amount of confusion in his hazel eyes. "As you wish," he said quietly, trying hard to maintain his composure as the last few days had been rather trying for him as he had all the duties of running the realm at the sudden injury of two thirds of the royal family. "Someone will be by later in order to show you to where you may rest and do as you see fit." He then left them with a bow to enter the Healing Chambers.

Elrond gave his sons a smile of thanks as he gently knocked on the chamber door to alert those inside of his presence, and he then softly opened the door, taking a deep breath against whatever may meet his eyes on the other side of the doorway. His heart bled at the scene that was revealed on the other side of the heavy oaken door. There was the familiar golden figure of King Thranduil, who seemed to show the weight of all the centuries of the world that he had been alive, sitting between two beds. On the bed to his left lay the thin figure of his wife, Alaryia, who had the look of one who had just passed into the realm of dreams due to complete and utter exhaustion rather than the willfully falling to sleep. On the king's right side lay the figure who Elrond was guessing was the crown prince and the reason for his summoning, Legolas.

The three's intrusion into the room caused a reaction from the king, who looked up from his vigil at his son's side and caught Elrond's gaze with red rimmed green eyes that seemed to have lost the sparkle that Elrond remembered them to have when last he had met with the king. "Lord Elrond," Thranduil spoke softly in order to avoid disturbing either of his family's rest, "I did not expect you to arrive so soon. Thank you for coming, though I know we are far from being considered friends."

Elrond moved into the quiet room with a grim smile upon his features and his sons flanking him quietly, unwelcome memories rising in all three's minds. "I am a Healer, King Thranduil. I could never refuse help to someone who truly needs it. I knew you to be writing the truth as there would be no other way that you would call me to Greenwood." He moved to the prince's side and placed a gentle hand on the troubled forehead, worry rising further in his chest when he felt its chill. "No one should ever have to under go an ordeal such as your son has, nor should any family members have to cope with the consequences of such vile acts," he continued, softer, almost appearing to be murmuring his deepest thoughts aloud to himself in order to ground himself within reality. He then locked his stormy grey eyes with the dull emerald of the Woodland king's, seeming to shake himself out of his brooding, "I know that it will be painful for you, but tell me what you can of what he went through so that I may know how best to treat his wounds."

Thranduil nodded his understanding and took in a deep breath to steady himself, watching the three guests to his kingdom begin to inspect the wounds on the thin, frail body of his son whom he had been watching waste away before his very eyes. He then quickly told the tale of what had happened as had been passed along to him by both his wife and Tiercel. He then described all the wounds that he had seen treated by the healers so that Elrond knew not only the extent of the injuries, but also what had been done in the treating of his son. He saw the surprise and recognition that was in the Elven healers stormy gray eyes and it went straight to his heart as worry as he explained what he knew about the wicked instruments now being held by the Noldor. When his tale was complete, he took another steadying breath before saying brokenly, "He has not awaken in five days, Elrond. The only responses he gives is when his wondering mind creates nightmares and we must restrain him before he may worsen his wounds. My healers are at a loss as to how to help him." He then looked down at his hands to hide the tears that had come unbidden to his eyes, "I have been unable to do anything other than watch my son slowly begin to fade away before my eyes."

Elrohir felt his heart go out to the elven king, whom he had never met before in his short (at least as far as elves are concerned) life, who he had heard was the sternest yet fair, ruler of the fierce nation of Sindar and Sylvan elves. He saw so much of what his own father had felt and shown after he and his twin had brought their mother back from being tortured by orcs in what the king was going through, that he felt he must attempt some form of comfort. He stepped away from the prince's side for a moment after securing the clean bandage that he had been applying, and put a hand on the king's slumped shoulder. "We will do everything that we can to help Prince Legolas, sir," he said, expressing his confidence and belief in his father's skills as well as he could through his strong words, "If there is anything Ada can do to save him, he will find it, and Elladan and I will help in any way we can."

The words of the young elf brought a brief ghost of a smile to the elf king's face as he was reminded of his son in the actions of the young peredhel who was also prepared to express his convictions whenever he felt that it was necessary. He placed one of his hands over that of the younger elf and replied, "I believe what you are saying, young one. My mind now agrees with what my heart was telling me when I sent for your father. I just cannot help but feel despair at the thought that I could lose my Leaf forever."

Elladan joined his brother at the king's side and looked on with understanding storm gray eyes that were so much like his father's while Elrohir's were more of a hazel that had but a hint of green that were a reflection of their mother's. "Those thoughts need to be pushed aside, Sir," he said softly, yet forcefully, "What your son needs now is for you to believe that he will pull through. He will need your strength to rely on, and that can only be fully given if you believe his recovery will happen. Listen not to your doubts, but trust to hope, it has not abandoned you or your son."

Elrond felt pride rise in his heart for the wisdom his son's were showing in a situation where they easily could have given up any hope of their own, especially after seeing what had happened to their mother and the results that it had upon her, both physically and spiritually. He looked his fellow elven ruler in the eyes and softly said, "His wounds seem to be healing well, though slowly. I am worried at the fact that he does not stir, not even when touched to show that he feels our presence. I am going to attempt to bring his mind back from the darkness into the light that he may have the chance to live." He saw the king's nod of agreement to his plan, and moved into action, knowing the twins would keep Thranduil from interrupting the process. He lowered himself to a seated position on the prince's bedside and placed one hand over the young elf's heart and the other on the prince's forehead. He focused on sending himself into a healing trance and drawing strength from Vilya, sent his mind into the ailing consciousness of the young Legolas.

_The mind he found himself in was full of darkness, and yet there was dappled light, as if the light of ithil was shining through the dense foliage found only in the deepest reaches of the densest foliage which allowed hope to flow into Elrond's heart as the presence of even that small amount of light showed that the prince was not lost for good, he had a fighting chance to recover from the experiences he had been put through at the hands of the orcs. The silence was broken only by the deep, gasping breaths that were taken only by one who had spent long crying out in his sorrow. Elrond stepped forward until he saw a small huddled figure sitting beneath the elegant branches of a birch tree, huddled in upon himself, hiding his head in his knees, copper hair shining in the moonlight. A sigh passed the elf lord's lips when he saw that he had found his patient's inner consciousness. _

_He stepped forward, staying quiet, yet doing nothing to mask his approach as he did not want to surprise the already ailing elfling in what probably felt like his last refuge: his mind. He knelt in the soft turf by the elfling and felt sorrow when the small figure shrank away from his unfamiliar presence. He placed a warm, gentle hand on the thin, shaking shoulder and with his warmest tone said, just loud enough that he knew the youngster would hear him, "Prince Legolas, I am glad to have found you. Many are concerned for your well being, young one."_

_He was saddened when the elfling's only response was to shrink even further in on himself and spoke in a barely audible voice, that was broken with what could either be pain or from sadness, "Why would anyone be concerned about me…I am not worth it."_

_Elrond felt his heart go out to the young one as he replied, "I doubt that penneth. I find myself caring for your well being, and we have yet to be formally introduced. My sons are also anxious for you. They wish to meet you, as there are no elves close to their age at home with the exception of their sister. We traveled fast and hard from Lothlorien just for you. Your Adar and Naneth are beyond worried for you, in fact they appear as if they have taken little care for themselves since you were wounded. I have also heard of your bravery in facing the threat to your people, before even your personal guards were aware it had come so close to your home. You show great promise as both a fine prince and a wise captain for the future. Even if this wasn't the case, you would still be worth the concern of those who wish you well." The copper haired youth remained silent after this emotional speech, so Elrond prompted, "If you don't believe me, return to the light with me. Come, give yourself the chance to continue living and see the true joy in life."_

_For a moment, Elrond was fearful that his plea was going to remain unanswered, but after the space of a couple breaths, the lanky legs uncurled from under the clutching arms, and emerald eyes dulled with hopelessness looked up at the elven lord, while the forest around them took on the appearance of the time directly before dawn. "I will try," the soft, broken voice came through cracked lips. _

_Elrond felt a relieved smile cross his features as he nodded encouragingly to the young elf. "I will see you in a few moments then, penneth." He left a lingering comforting grasp on the thin shoulder before he turned and, following his previous path found his way once more back into his own consciousness. _

The great elf lord blinked his eyes wearily as he returned from the healing trance, and removed his hands from the wounded prince slowly as he looked up to see Greenwood's king looking at him hopefully as he moved back from the bedside into the chair set next to the bedside. Thranduil looked as if he were about to ask something of the healer, but then his attention was stolen away by a slight shifting under the covers of his son. Elrond saw a brief gleam of hope rise in his eyes as he once more grabbed onto the pale hand resting on the bed, and gave it a comforting squeeze of support and a smile spread across his features as the squeeze was returned, though with far less strength. The king picked up the hand and cradled it lovingly between his own and pressed his lips to the thin, pale flesh. Another sound came from the shifting of the small body upon its resting place, and a true smile passed the lips of the elven king as he saw the eyes of his beloved son open once more, signaling his return to the waking world from the realm of his mind. He moved a hand up to his son's hair and smoothed it back lovingly as he had at all the times Legolas had ever been in need of comfort. "'Las!" he exclaimed softly, love filling his words. "Good morning, my son."

His only response for a moment was for the pain filled eyes of his son to blink at him owlishly for a moment before he swallowed visibly a couple times. "A-ada?" his voice came brokenly, barely a whisper that could hardly be heard by those close to his bedside. It looked like he was fighting with himself for a moment before he seriously whispered, "You look terrible."

Tears came to the king's eyes as a gentle smile crossed his face at the teasing coming from the dry lips of his son. He attempted to keep the slight humor going, teasing gently, "My sweet Little Leaf. I can assure you that I look better than you do right now."

This attempt at humor fell flat as Legolas did not respond in any way. Elrohir saved the mistake by stepping forward to the bedside with a glass of cool water and asked, pulling the prince's attention away from his father's statement, "Would you like some water, prince?" sounding only a little unsure as to how to address Legolas.

He was answered with only a small nod of the prince's head. He looked as if he then tried to sit up to drink, but was stopped either by weakness or pain. Thranduil immediately saw this, and gently helped his son into a position where he could easily drink the water given by Elrohir's gentle hands. He managed to swallow only a few mouthfuls before he felt light headedness creep upon himself and he needed to be lay back down upon the pillows once more.

It was at this point that Elrond moved to his side, only to see the green eyes widen in confusion. The Lord of Imladris sat on the side of the bed gracefully, moving slowly to allow the ailing elf to adjust to his presence. The same warm smile crossed his lips that he had used earlier in his patient's hidden consciousness, "It is an honor to meet you young one. My name is Elrond." He saw the beginnings of understanding stand beside the confusion in the dulled eyes before he saw the eyelids began to flutter, yet were interrupted by a wince of pain when a long still muscle chose that moment to twitch, sending waves of agonies through his tortured muscles.

"Ada," the soft voice of Elladan came to everyone's ears, and when the elder elf looked over, he saw that his son had a new cup in his hand. He looked momentarily on the concerned eyes of his eldest son before he understood what the cup held.

He accepted the cup and turned back to the young prince and spoke once more to the elfling, "Here is a potion that will help take the pain away so that you may be able to rest and speed the healing of your body. I am sorry that we will need to sit you upright in order to drink it, but after that you may rest once more. I can see that you are still very tired from your wounds." With the help of Thranduil, the prince was once more raised into a seated position and the bitter tasting pain killing tea passed through his lips only to begin taking effect almost immediately. A few moments after his head had returned to the pillows, his eyes drifted closed as he entered a healing sleep with the aid of the potion.

Thranduil looked across the bed of his son in the direction of the Peredhel lord and his twin sons whom he had treated with less than friendly terms since the days of the last alliance and was amazed. Elrond had not even waited a day to race to his son's side after he had received the pleading message. He had ignored everything that had passed between their kingdoms for centuries and was treating his son with a gentleness that Thranduil could not even dare to hope to be able to replicate with the sons of someone that he had perceived as near an enemy since the death of his father. He broke the silence as soon as he knew that his son was deep enough in the grasp of sleep that he would not be disturbed by voices. "You have my deepest and sincerest thanks, Lord Elrond. You have brought hope back to my life with your healing of my son."

Elrond closed his eyes momentarily, drawing himself out of the memories that were threatening to consume his thoughts at Thranduil's heartfelt statement. He then reopened his eyes, the pain that he had been working to conquer apparent in his stormy gray eyes, and looked to the worried features of the king. "He has begun walking the road towards recovery, but he still has a long path to walk. I will do all that I may to help him, but he will also require both you and Alaryia's strength and support. These next few days will be crucial to his recovery, so you should rest now while we are sure that he is resting well." He saw the king begin to protest and slipped into Healer mode. "I am more than capable of keeping watch at your son's, whom is my patient, bedside. As far as appearances will get us, I have had much more rest within the past weeks than you, especially as my sons and I have been visiting the Golden Wood away from our duties while you have not have such an extended vacation for many years, along with the fact that you have been sitting at the bedside of your son since he was wounded. Do not try to tell me any differently." Thranduil's face took on the look of one who was guilty of what he was being accused.

"You should take a break," came the soft voice of Elrohir. "You will feel better should you leave this room. Walk through the corridors, speak to your steward, and rest in your own chambers. You will come back feeling not only better but stronger, more ready to lend your strength to your son."

The golden head of the ruler of the Greenwood nodded his understanding while he buried his head in his hands. He went to raise from his seat as a rustling sound came from the other bed in the room. Thranduil was on his feet in but a moment and by his wife's side gathering her into his arms. He was taken aback at her appearance. She had been resting for several hours prior to even the peredhel's arrival and yet there were dark circles surrounding her chocolate colored eyes, that were sunken into her now waxen features. He smoothed her hair back as he cradled her whispering, "Elrond has arrived, Love. He aided Legolas to awake. He is healing, Love. Soon he will be well."

Alaryia buried her face in her husband's shoulder, barely hiding a moan of pain as a look of surprise and worry crossed the already weary features. He tightened his hold on his beloved wife, and the worry rose in his heart as her only answer was to whimper as the tension in her body increased for a moment before she once more went limp. His eyes locked with Elrond's once more, the panic growing ever more in the emerald eyes as he tried to rouse his wife from the unconsciousness that she appeared to have fallen into.

Elrond moved to the panicking elf's side, and took his wife from his arms, lying her back down onto the bed before he looked over at the king. "Thranduil," he said gently, yet forcefully enough that he knew he would get an answer, "Was she injured in the fight with the orcs as well?" The only answer that he received was a hesitant nod, the panic not retreating from the expressive eyes. "Was the wound checked for poisons?"

A/N: Uh-oh, leaving it a cliff hanger this time. Hurray, Elrond and the twins are there and Legolas is healing, but what of this new problem with the queen? Hang in there until the next installment. Until then, please drop me a review to let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Early Frost

Chapter 6

Thanduil seemed to shake himself back into conscious thought as he answered, "I am unsure whether Gwilwileth initially checked for poisons as I was not present at her arrival. Shortly after her tending Legolas was brought in and it has been difficult to convince her to take care of herself with his condition. Her bandages have been being changed daily, and I was under the impression she was healing well. The wound is on her shoulder, the left one, if you would check it." He stepped back as Elrond pulled open the queen's informal robe that she was wearing and began to look at the remnants of the wound, and his eyes dropped to watch the floor, when he was surprised to see his hands shaking like leaves in a gale force wind.

The twins shared a look with each other and seemed to communicate silently for a couple moments before they both moved quickly into action. Elladan once more moved to the shelf of herbs while Elrohir moved to the king's side. He placed a hand on the king's shoulder and softly said, "Why do we not move into the next room while Ada is checking on Queen Alaryia? I am curious to hear some about the Greenwood as I have never been here before, and who better to broaden my understanding than the king of the mighty wood himself." He gently pulled on Thranduil's sleeve and was surprised when he followed with nary a complaint, in fact it was almost like leading a small child who is asleep on their feet. Elladan passed him a mug of sleeping tea as he walked past.

Elrohir found he had led the king into a smaller room with a single bed, and guessed that these were the private rooms of the healing halls as there needed to be much more space in the areas where elves were treated in times of emergency. The only places that were available for sitting were on the bed, which is where Elrohir led Thranduil and with the slightest pressure the golden king sank to the soft bed. He then took the mug of tea and placed it in the still shaking hands. "Drink this, it will help." Thranduil just looked at him for a moment before beginning to sip at the tea that was only slightly bitter, the taste being cut by the addition of honey. "Ada will do everything that is possible to help both Queen Alaryia and Prince Legolas. It would destroy him if he let two such strong lights fade out of Arda so soon." He saw the question in the green eyes as he latched onto the young half elf's voice and Elrohir decided that the king would understand his father's dedication if he heard the story of the loss of his own mother to the call of the sea to get away from the torture she had undergone at the hands of the orcs.

As there was no where else for him to sit, he sat on the bed with his feet folded underneath himself after toeing off his still travel dirty boots. He took a deep breath to center his thoughts, and decided that the best way to start was to find out just how much about the events Thranduil was aware. He started softly, "How much news have you had of Imladris within the past few turnings of the seasons?"

Thranduil shook his golden head, almost regretfully, before admitting, "We have had little to no news directly from your home for a long stretch of years as you know we have had less than friendly relations for the entirety of your still young life. Our communications with Lorien have been growing less and less as the darkness that seems to be centered around Dol Guldor has been increasing with each passing hour."

Elrohir nodded, deciding in but a moment where to begin his tale. "Around two years ago my mother went to visit kin in Lothlorien as was often her wont. Elladan and I were to have met her in Lorien a month after her departure from Imladris in order to also spend some weeks with our grandparents and to participate in her entourage when she left. It was a spontaneous decision on her part, and as such, no one was expecting her arrival and thus no word was sent when she never arrived. When my brother and I were made aware of this upon our arrival in the golden wood, we left immediately to search for her, panic rising in our hearts and as the hours stretched into days into almost a full week of scouring the country side, despair took its place. Despair as to ever finding Nana alive, but we kept searching, our need great as we knew what losing her with no knowledge of her fate would do not only to us, as we have each other to lean on for strength, but more importantly to Ada and Arwen. It was at the point where we were running on determination alone that we came across a good size group of orcs in a valley off the western side of the Misty Mountains. The monsters did not hear our approach and so we had the easy job of dispensing them with the aid of their surprise. We were disposing of the bodies when we found Nana…" Elrohir choked for a moment, tears coming to his eyes at the memory of how he had seen his beloved mother beaten, bloody, and violated. He felt a slight smile cross his face as the elven king squeezed his knee gently, recognizing the pain the memory was causing the young peredhel. Elrohir looked down at his hands momentarily before he looked back up at the king to see the compassion in the emerald depths and he continued. "I have never seen someone in such condition. To be honest I do not know how Elladan and I got her back home alive. With the help of Ada she recovered physically and she tried. She tried so hard that it broke all our hearts to go back to the life she had lived before the terrible incident. At last there was nothing else for it, she sailed over the sea to Valinor. We understand what it is you are going through. It echoes much of what has happened so recently to our family. To see it repeated in any such way so soon after Ada has started to heal of his grief, I would hate to see what the result would be."

Thranduil's eyes were soft with compassion and understanding by the conclusion of Elrohir's story and he looked down at the now empty mug that was in his hands. He felt a warming sensation run through his body, tempting him to drift into the realms of elven dreams, but he resisted long enough to drape an arm around the younger elf, who really wasn't much older than his beloved son, trying to comfort him as he saw traces of silvery tears begin to track down the still travel smudged pale cheeks. "Your Adar and I have spent many, many years as less then friends, and yet he was the one person in all of Arda that I sent for to aid my family. No matter my feelings politically or personally, your father is the best healer in all of Arda, and that is why I trust him to treat both my wife and my son as if we had been the best of friends for all the long years of our lives. That is what he is known to do, and I trust him. If he is willing to do that for not only people that he doesn't know as well as for someone that has been a borderline enemy for centuries, just think of what he did for your mother, the love of his life. If I know your father at all, he put forth his heart and soul into the effort of healing your mother. I know that he will forever blame himself for her loss, but if I know your grandparents in any way, they will have reminded him that he will meet her once again when he decides that it is his time to leave for Valinor, and they will continue to do so until he takes it to heart." He then felt the warmth that was spreading through him overwhelm his senses as his eyes glazed over in elven dreams, slumping his frame heavily over the slim, lithe frame of the younger peredhel twin, who took the weight easily after years worth of training as a warrior.

"Thank you for understanding," the raven haired elf whispered, relieved to see that the sleeping tea that his brother had brewed for the king had finally taken effect. Gently he shifted the limp frame so that it was laying on the bed instead of against him, and made him more comfortable, taking off his boots and loosening his formal robe. He then carefully moved the soft blanket out from under the restful body and covered him with it after settling him comfortably against the pillows.

Elrohir walked back into the first room and was concerned at the look of seriousness upon both his brother and father's faces. Elladan looked at his brother with a saddened shadow in their depths. He walked over and grasped him in the hardest, tightest hug that he had felt since their mother had left. Elrohir gently guided them both down to the stones of the floor, where he cradled his brother gently, his concern rising as he felt his brother's tears on the skin of his neck. Elrond looked over at his sons, and he disclosed the condition of the queen, "It is a slow acting poison, designed only to come into affect after the wound itself had healed. It is rare so I am not surprised the healers did not detect it. I have only heard mention of this poison in healing texts during the beginning of Sauron's war on the light before the battles of the Last Alliance. Never was it discovered how the poison was made or how to cure it, but the ruling thought is that he used dark arts in the crafting of the blight."

Horror found its way into the younger twin's eyes, and he buried his face into his brother's neck and clung back with all the strength that was in his muscles. "What can we do, Ada?" he said, voice even more broken than Elrond had ever heard coming from his lips, which broke the father's heart even further.

"I will analyze the traces of the poison that I have managed to pull out of her blood, and we can just treat the symptoms until I make progress," Elrond looked at his hands for a moment before he continued, "Thank you for watching after Thranduil's well being while I worked on Alaryia, I assume that you gave him the sleeping tea that you and your brother are so talented at not only brewing but administering?"

At first the only answer that Elrond received was a slight nod from the hidden head of his son before the broken voice began speaking once more. "I gave the tea to him and then he seemed to be confused by your reactions to the situation…so…I told him about Nana. I'm sorry…I know that I should have asked first, but he needed to hear it…and I thought…I thought it might…"

Elrond approached his sons closely once more, first placing a tender hand on his youngest son's head before kneeling and wrapping his arms around both twins. "Do not apologize, 'Ro. It is as much your right to tell Celebrian's story as it is mine. I understand your reasons, and I think that it may have the exact reaction as you thought behind the retelling of this tale. I am but saddened at the amount of similarities between his story and ours. We must do what we can to help him as we helped each other. He needs us to be strong not only for him, but for his son and for his wife, two of his three reasons for living in this world."

Time passed slowly over the next week for all the kingdom of Greenwood the Great, but even more so for those that were sequestered in the Healing Hall. Under the tender care of Elrond and his sons, Legolas slowly healed physically, wounds knitting together fiber by fiber leaving angry, raised welts, sensitive to any form of touch, where slices had been, but for the progress he made physically, mentally he seemed to be making no improvements. He had not spoken since that first day's attempt at jest with his father. His eyes always lit with a small amount of hope when he saw the golden features of his father, but that was the only response that he gave to anyone's presence. Any other reactions were given mechanically, from eating to the dressing of his wounds to the light-hearted tales that were told to him by the twins. The king had returned to his duties, albeit reluctantly, the day after the arrival of the Imladrian lord and his sons, limiting his time in the Healing Halls, but not entirely doing away with it. His time continued to be full of spending time with his family, just within the strong stone walls of the Fortress rather than under the shady leaves of the forest gardens, and worry for the two lights of his life rather than the complete joy at their time together. Alaryia on the other hand was waning, quickly. It seemed that nothing Elrond did made any difference, even in eliminating her pain and symptoms. The circles under her eyes grew until they looked as the darkest of bruises as her body wasted away, unable to take any nourishment. Hope began to fail as Elrond toiled to the ends of his strength and beyond, several times he found himself on the receiving end of his son's sleeping potions to force him to rest in order to replenish his strength when he was almost at the point of collapse. Thranduil began to refuse sleep once more, becoming irritable and cranky, this change apparent even to his son who's confusion and fear rose in the dulled green eyes which led to ideas beginning to form in the twin's minds, but they decided to stay silent and develop these thoughts until their plans were fully wrought and the time was right.

A week after their arrival, Thranduil found himself at the receiving end of one of the sleeping potions once more, only this time when he blinked his eyes back into awareness, he was not alone in the side chamber of the Healing Halls, but in the presence of the mirrored images of the twins on either side of the bed. Over their contact he had become able to pick out their identities with but a glance where most everyone else still blundered about with the names much to the amusement of the twins. Thus it was that he recognized the fact that Elladan was the first to breach the silence when the king began to sit upon the bed. "My lord, there is something weighing heavily upon our minds. It has to do with the well being of your son."

Thranduil's face was overtaken by seriousness rather than the curiosity that he had felt upon his first awakening. He silently nodded his approval for them to continue their explanation.

Elrohir picked up where his brother left off, "My lord, your son is slowly improving physically. Slowly, leaving scaring, but healing none the less, at least in this singular way. It is the state of his mind that my brother and I have now turned our concern too."

Elladan once more picked up the strain of explanation, "I'm sure that by now you have noticed that he does not talk even to answer questions or even making sounds in his sleep as you said he did before we arrived. He looks upon all who come with fear, acting as if any of us will attack him without a moments notice."

Thranduil once again nodded his understanding and his assent to continue their telling. Elrohir once again took up the narration. "Perhaps if we were to take him away from Greenwood's heavy atmosphere it would be easier for him to heal from the mental anguish of the torture that he underwent at the hands of the orcs."

Thranduil's face became a mask while his eyes were bright, with what extreme emotion, the younger elves were unsure . He silently thought for several moments, keeping his eyes fixed on a single spot across the chamber and his emotions to himself. He said mechanically, "Where would you propose to take him?"

Elladan answered abruptly, "Our thoughts lead to Imladris, it is well known as a center of healing amongst all people of Arda. I have been told by many who are guests that the very air itself aids in the healing as it is light and jolly as well as just having a feeling of healing amongst its gardens and forests."

Thranduil was silent for a moment, thoughts obviously rolling through his mind, though their nature remained unknown to the twins who waited nervously for the answer to their inquiry. "Who would accompany him on the journey?"

Elrohir then took his turn at answering the question, "Elladan and I would leave with the prince so as he would not find himself alone at the end of his journey, as well as having experience at the transportation of the injured on long journeys without overtaxing their strength. Of course we would welcome any guard that you may wish to send with us through your lands as we know that they are no longer as safe as they once were, but past the eaves of the forest, we may travel faster with just the three of us, we have traveled together alone for many seasons through many dangers. Father would stay here, doing all he may for Queen Alaryia and you until you no longer desire his aid. We will return Prince Legolas to you as soon as he has recovered."

Thranduil nodded at the sense behind the answers and contemplated his answers in a more extended silence than the previous ones had been. His mind was conflicting with his heart upon the matter of letting his son go away from him in order to recover and regain the glory and splendour that was inherent in the light of his spirit. He knew that the twins were speaking nothing but the truth in their assessment of what the trip may aid in succeeding, but with his wife so near to death, the thought of Legolas leaving tore at the very foundations of his heart. Finally he ground out, the tension of his emotional state growling beneath the forced regalness he was exuding, "Though my heart is telling me to keep him here in order to keep my Leaf safe, my mind understands your reasoning is sound, and agrees with your argument. As soon as your father declares him strong enough for the travel you propose, he will leave with you and a party of my most trusted guards who will leave you once you reach the edge of the Greenwood." He then swung his legs over the side of the bed, inserting his feet once more into his boots and refastening the formal over-robe he reached for the diadem that marked his status and affixed it to his head while he rose to his feet. "I will tell him of this plan at once. Hopefully it will bring a small amount of light into his eyes as he has always wished to travel throughout the elven lands as well as the rest of Arda, and this will be the first of hopefully many trips that may be led between the Greenwood and Imladris." He turned and walked out of the room purposefully, and completed his plan upon seeing that his son was awake from the sleep that he had been in when the king had succumbed to the twin's sleeping potion. He was pleased to see a small twinkle of joy in the dull emerald green eyes as he was told of the chance to travel, and with that in mind he left the twins to tell their father of their scheme while he returned to the running of his kingdom after the lengthy sleep brought upon by the sleeping potion.

The plan went into effect a few days later when Elrond declared that the prince was strong enough physically to travel. Several days previous the king had commanded several of the servants to prepare his son a pack to accompany him, with not only several changes of travel clothes, one set of formal tunic and leggings for him to wear upon his arrival at Imladris, but most importantly several items to remind him of his family and his home beneath the many leaves of the Green wood. Among these items he placed a letter explaining why he had sent his son away from his side in such a time in all their lives, and explaining exactly was going on his the prince's mother, apologizing that by the time he returned to his home, she would have passed into the Halls of Mandos as they could find no way to heal her. Gently Thranduil said his farewells to his beloved son as he aided the twins in transporting him down to the horses where he was lifted into the saddle in front of Elrohir who's horse had the steadier gait of those that served the elven twins.

Legolas looked down to his father with pain filled eyes and as his father took his hand for the last time before he left, silvery tears began to trace down his pale sunken features. "I love you, Legolas," he said gently, running a hand over the thin arm to try to comfort his young son, "You will be back with us as soon as you have recovered from this. Keep that in mind and you will be back before with us before the seasons have turned." He then tried to release the thin hand, but was surprised when his hand was not released in return, only clasped tighter, with a strength that spoke of his former health and training as a warrior of the highest caliber. He squeezed back once more to express as much comfort and strength for and to his son as possible before he said once more, "I love you, my Little Leaf. Be strong." He then withdrew and raised his hand in salute for the sons of Elrond, the members of his family's personal guards, the most elite warriors of the realm, and most especially for his son, and watched as the road through the gates of the forest realm.

Slowly, he watched the entire party rode down the partially covered forest pathway. When he could no longer see the figures of the twins or his son, he turned away and with heavy steps returned to the healing halls to sit by his wife's side until the day was out as she had become agitated when they had removed Legolas away from her side. His steps increased when he heard loud noises coming from the very room where he had left his wife less than an hour previous. He popped through the door only to be taken by surprise to see two healers holding his wife down on the bed while she appeared to be attempting to thrash about, as well as Elrond forcing some form of potion down he throat while she was shouting for some reason. His eyes widened in horror and he froze as he watches the spasms slow as what he was assuming was a sedative took affect. Elrond looked up to see the haunted, pain filled eyes of the king staring at the sedated form of his wife. The great elven healer walked over, breathing a little heavily and placed a hand kindly on the king's shoulder. "She was hallucinating and began to react most violently, we had to restrain her before she injured herself, and then we had to sedate her as she began to fight more and more violently." Thranduil just looked at him and Elrond saw that the king's world was breaking down around him as he must have realized just exactly what the sink into hallucinations meant for the failing health of his beloved life. "I am very sorry, my friend, we have done all for her that we know. All we can do is make her comfortable for what time she does have left."

He caught the elven ruler as his knees gave out beneath him, and sank to the floor with the golden king cradled in his arms, face pressed into the crook between his shoulder and neck, feeling the taught body shake with the grief that was flowing through the veins and a ragged sob forced its way past his lips. "Why is this happening?" he managed to whisper out between the sobs that were forcefully tearing himself out of his body. "I am alone now, all alone…"

Elrond felt his heart turn towards the king even more than it had in the recent days as we watched the ruler hang onto hope with a tenacity that he had seen in very few places among all those that he had met and the places he had seen among the long years of his life. He was determined to build strong ties of friendship with not only the king but between their kingdoms, not only out of the shared experience and emotions that had passed between the both of them, but more from the determination to show the grieving king that he was not as alone in the wide world as he thought of himself. "You are far from alone, Thranduil, though I understand how it may seem that way right at this moment." He tightened his grip on the shaking shoulders of the great king as if to demonstrate his meaning, before continuing his speech, keeping his voice mellow and comforting, "Your son is still with you. He has your strength and stubbornness, I have already seen it in him though I have only seen him under the worst of circumstances. He will have recovered before you would believe it possible, my sons will enlist the help of the whole population of Imladris in the effort to remind him how to smile and take joy in life, and then he will return, bringing a bright light back to your arms. I know that this will be hard and you will face the day seeing only the darkness that surrounds you in your grief, but slowly the sun will come back. It will not cease to hurt. I will not lie and tell you that falsehood, but it will become more manageable. Your people will take care of you and I will do all that I may to aid you in any way I can."

The two great elven lords remained in their position on the floor for a few moments longer before the shaking of the king calmed and his tears were gone for the moment at least. "Come, Thranduil, your wife has yet to leave you. We can move her over in the bed and you may lay with her in your arms, it will do the both of you good. Come now." He then helped the king to his feet, and led him silently to the side of his wife's sick bed. As Thranduil toed of his boots and removed his outer robe Elrond moved Alaryia to be lying on her side with more than enough room for the figure of the king. He then turned back the covers to allow the king to slide in next to his wife, and he took her withered body into his strong arms and brought her close to his body while Elrond returned the covers over their figures. He then walked to the other room to take count of the herb supplies next to Gwilwileth, the expert healer whom he had come to respect within his weeks spent in the Greenwood's Healing Halls, within easy call of the king should any troubles arise even though with the amount of sedative he gave her she should sleep for a good few hours at least. Deep in his heart, Elrond was hoping that their presence would do both the king and the queen a bit of good, at least in the way of easing their hearts at the imminent parting at the hands of the poisoning.

The end that Elrond knew was near came almost four days later. It had been as trying a four day period as any that he had lived through in his entire life, including those where he was in battle and even the days where he sat with his wife as she was fading and imminently traveling to sail to Valinor and he accompanied her to the Havens. He was forced to sit and watch another live through the same pain that he had so recently, and all that he could do was offer soft words of strength as well as pain killing potions and sleeping teas to try to allow the queen to last long enough for her body to fight away the poison that ran in her veins, as well as keep the king on his feet even though he had completely stopped even attempting to go to his office to work, relying solely on the abilities of Galion, his fully capable seneschal, for the functioning of his kingdom.

In her final hours the queen managed to stay conscious, refusing all attempts from the healers to give her something to dull her pain. Instead as she felt herself begin to physically fail, she talked to her husband, they talked about almost everything. They covered all the happiest moments in their shared lives, from their meeting (right in front of his father Oropher, well known as one of the strictest and most temper prone elves in the history of Arda, and they kept their attraction for each other secret from him for almost the whole decade of their courtship), to their marriage under the leaves of the Green wood (directly after the pilgrimage to the forest led by the new king and son themselves, though her eyes were only for the younger golden elf), and even to the birth and growth of their beloved son. This was the subject that they spent most of their time on. His appearance as an infant and on as a small elfling, and then his handsomeness as he approached his majority, a majority that his mother now would never see reach its fruition due to the unhappy circumstances that they had now found themselves in. This was only a momentary lapse into the sad truth before they began to speculate on the amount of maidens and even males that would be throwing themselves in front of his feet as he grew more and more comely in the future.

Then they lay in silence, taking comfort in each other's arms, and in the final moment Alaryia whispered, "We will meet again, Beloved of my Heart. I will love you to Mandos' Halls and beyond, forever…" Her eyes then glazed over for the last time and her breathing stilled from the heavy, labored breathing that had wracked her sunken features for so long. It took but one moment before the realization set in on the golden features and the tears began to flow down his cheeks, arms tightening on the now still body of his one and only beloved wife. Mere seconds later the king's immense grief set in, and he became unaware of the world around him in his haze of intense sadness. Elrond sighed, realizing that he was now in for the troublesome and drawn out battle with grief that he saw himself helping the now hurting king through, and knowing that it would be probably quite a while before he would return home to Imladris in order to aid his sons in the healing of the young prince.

A/N: Sad day, the queen has died. Legolas is on his way towards recovery. How will he take the news? What will happen next? Come back next chapter to learn the answers to these questions and more. Until then, please drop me a line and let me know your thoughts!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

An Early Frost

Chapter 7

Glorfindel, seneschal of Elrond, stood under the overhang of the roof at the top of the stairs leading to the doors of the entrance hall of the mansion at Imladris. Next to him stood Erester, the chief advisor to Elrond, looking out as two figures came through the pounding rain with purpose even as lightning split the air, thunder rolled through the heavens and, if possible, the rain pounded the figures even harder. A single sculpted eyebrow rose toward the glittering golden hairline as he recognized the horses of Elladan and Elrohir, but there was no sign of their father following behind them. Could this have something to do with the message that they had received from the king of the Greenwood? His confusion rose further, as could be seen from the elevation of his eyebrow and the addition of the second rising to join the first, as he saw but one of the two brothers dismount and aid a third, limp figure down from the horse of his brother before the second twin dismounted from his horse and handed both sets of reins to the stable hands who had come out for the horses, braving the pounding rain to bring the now skittish as well as tired steeds to the stable to take care of weary muscles. It was then revealed that this second figure was Elrohir as he took his cloak off to help cover the limp figure even more from the rain as they ran with quick, light steps toward their home.

Glorfindel moved back through the door to allow them into the warmth before accosting them with the questions that were swirling through his mind. Erestor followed the twins as they rushed in dripping complete droves of drops to the floor creating puddles where they stood. Before any word could be said by either of the ancient elves, Elrohir, dripping and wet to the bone through his traveling clothes turned and peeled the two cloaks off the third figure, revealing a small copper haired elf, with pale, sunken, and tortured features that they had never before seen, though he had an air about him that was familiar, yet seemed almost suppressed by his physical condition. He quickly checked all the vitals of the unconscious figure and heaved a great sigh of relief.

"Elrohir, Elladan," Erestor's calm voice cut the silence, "welcome home. Who is this that you have brought with you? Also, where is your father?"

Elrohir looked up at the two ancient elves that had been first he and his brother's tutors and teachers before becoming their mentors and confidants, even to the point of friends, his stormy gray eyes, reflecting conflicting emotions as he spoke a quick reply to the advisor's inquiries, "I am afraid that the answer to those questions will take quite a while in the telling. First may we have a room for our guest? I am afraid the trail and especially this rain has greatly taxed the limited strength that he had stored while he was still at home under the leaves of the Greenwood."

Glorfindel replied immediately, "Of course, we will take him to the guest rooms nearest to your suites. You two run ahead and take warm baths to take away the filth of travel and warm yourselves of the chill from the rain. Erestor and I will take care of our guest. Just give us a clue as to what to watch out for as he is obviously injured."

These words just caused Elladan to clutch the limp elf more tightly against his chest as he objected, "No, I will accompany Legolas while Elrohir recovers and then we will switch." He looked at Glorfindel with sadness in his deep, stormy eyes to match that within the eyes of his brother. He saw the hurt and pain that his rejection had caused in the elder elf. "It is not that we don't trust you, that couldn't be further than the truth, we trust you with our lives and beyond, just like Ada. I will explain when we are on our way to the guest room, but it is imperative that we get Legolas dried, warm, and resting to regain what strength he may." The pleading and apology in the elder of the twin's eyes was enough to gain the advisor and seneschal's following footsteps as he began to walk off down the hall with Elrohir rushing ahead to bathe and change then relieve him. "This is Prince Legolas, the son of King Thranduil. He has come with us to Imladris after partially recovering from being a prisoner of orcs. We can't leave him alone with people he does not know when he may wake soon, it would be traumatic for him. As soon as he has rested and feels comfortable about the idea, 'Ro and I will show him around the house and especially the gardens as well as giving him the chance to meet others, he has been cooped up in the Greenwood's Healing Halls too long for anyone, let alone one who is, as I hear it, acutely claustrophobic."

"I see," Glorfindel said softly as they reached the door to Legolas' guest room and he opened it for the younger elf. "That makes sense. Bring him to the couch and we shall get him dried and into a warm sleeping robe that way he does not soak the bed clothes as that would be detrimental to our goals." The elder twin followed the directions and as he began unfastening the prince's outer tunic Glorfindel continued, "I'm assuming that Elrond has stayed behind in the Green wood for a reason connected with the same orcs that attacked the young prince here."

"Yes," Elladan sighed, "I shall tell you about it later though, as well as the entirety of the reasons behind bringing the prince here. Right now we should focus on him. He passed into unconsciousness about five miles outside the boarders and has not made any motion since. I am hoping that it is only due to exhaustion and with the proper amount of rest he will once more be on the mend."

Glorfindel then began to help take the sodden clothes off the chilled skin of the still ailing prince, beginning with his boots while Elladan started to take off his finely made traveling tunic, and Erestor dug a thick, soft sleeping robe out of Elladan's room as it was closest, and gathering a warm towel. He re-entered the room and winced at the sight of the angry red welts of the still healing slashes , the deepest of which were still bandaged, marks of blood seeping through the damp, formerly white strips of linen. Glorfindel took the towel and began drying the dripping copper locks and the areas that were not being rebandaged by the elder twin. Throughout the whole ordeal the prince was eerily silent and motionless, which caused worry to rise in both Glorfindel and Erestor, but it seemed as if Elladan was used to this response to any ministrations. Halfway through the process Elrohir switched places with his brother, tying off the final of the bandages before the two ancient elves put the warm robe onto the wasted limbs of the prince. Glorfindel then lifted the feather light weight of the prince into his arms and lay him down onto the dry covers that had been prepared for him.

It was then that the prince finally showed some sign of awareness to his surroundings. As Glorfindel pulled the covers up around his chin, his eyes popped open, revealing their dull emerald eyes, and the ancient warrior was surprised to see absolute terror in their pain filled depths. Elrohir's sharp gray eyes caught the motion of the prince's eyes flying open and his sharp ears caught the sharp intake of breath as Legolas's eyes caught sight of the unfamiliar figure in front of his eyes. His response was quick and careful. He sank onto the wide bed on the opposite side of the prince from the figure of his mentor, not trying to hide his presence. He then spoke kindly, soft enough not to startle the already frightened prince, but loud enough that he was sure he would be heard by the prince that was visibly descending into a panic. "Do not worry, Prince Legolas, we reached Imladris while you were sleeping. Welcome to my home. This is Lord Glorfindel, seneschal to my father." He saw the panic begin to decrease in the prince's figure, the tension slowly beginning to drain from the still taught wasted muscles. He nodded to Glorfindel who had extreme sadness running through his deep crystal blue eyes, letting him know that now was the time to start speaking to the wounded prince.

"Welcome to Imladris, Legolas Thranduilion," he said in his tenor voice, gently sending comfort to the injured youth as well as possible without touching the elfling any more, "It is truly a pleasure to meet you at last. I encourage you to find your rest while you are here, nothing will come to injure you. I swear that you are and will ever be safe within our boarders." He gave a warm smile to the small prince and carefully squeezed one of his thin hands, sending a wave of light and comfort through the contact of their hands. He then stepped back and pulled Erestor to the side of the bed where the prince could easily see the advisor without moving his head at all, and still speaking gently introduced him, "This is Erestor, he is Elrond's chief advisor, and one of my best friends in all of Arda. He too will do anything we may to help you while you stay with us."

Erestor lowered himself so that he was sitting on the bedside, and gently took the pale hand into his own, cradling it gently in his lap, stroking it gently, just as one would for a small, frightened child. "It is a great pleasure to meet you, Prince Legolas. From the limited news we receive from Greenwood the Great, you are quite the young elf, and I am honored to meet your acquaintance. Don't let Glorfindel scare you, I promise, he may look quite frightening, but I promise, he wouldn't harm a fly." Erestor heard a disgruntled snort from behind him, where he knew Glorfindel was standing, and a slight light of mirth light the still dull eyes, prompting a continuation of the jest. "I am quite serious. There was once when he stepped on but a small ant when he was in the practice fields, and I found him there almost an hour later, in tears over the fact that he had stepped on the poor thing."

Erestor stayed at the prince's bedside while Elrohir moved the couch over with Glorfindel's help to directly by the bedside, and there he reclined, lying on his side with a pillow tucked under his head, cradled by one of his strong arms. He looked the prince in the eye and smiled slightly, "I know that our travel has exhausted you, Prince, it must have since I am well and yet find sleep tugging at my mind while I am sitting here. If it's alright with you, may I sleep on this couch, that way if you need me, I will be right here."

The most answer that Elrohir was expecting to receive was maybe a nod, if he was lucky, but he was surprised when a broken whisper came softly from the bed, "Legolas." Elrohir was confused by the whisper, raising an eyebrow as he sat up and moved closer to the bed, noticing slightly that Glorfindel and Erestor had exited the room as even their sharp hearing had missed the small whisper that had come from the bed. He was about ready to speak his question as to the meaning of the younger elf's statement, when the prince grabbed his hand to pause any statements that would cover up his vague whisper of a voice. "My name is Legolas. Please use it rather than my title," the harsh whisper that came from the fair elfling was small, and sounded almost as if he were questioning himself and his right as to making the small request of the forgetting his title.

A small smile found its way to the young peredhel's lips as he heard the elfling's voice for the first time since he had originally awoken within the healing halls in his father's stronghold. He squeezed the hand that had grabbed his own and leaned closer, "I will gladly call you by name, Legolas, but you must agree to one thing for me." He saw a hint of curiosity rise in the normally disinterested emerald eyes of the prince and continued his end of the deal in return, "As soon as you're able, you will come walking with me in the gardens. There is one in particular that I think you may like that does not get nearly as many visitors as it deserves and I think that you may enjoy. There are many woodland flowers that are there as well as trees aplenty. I know that you have been kept indoors for the many long days of your healing in the halls of your father. You were outdoors on our journey here and you improved slightly, though I know the trip was trying for you, but I don't want you to relapse at all by cooping you up in my home, no matter how much lighter and airier the rooms are."

The young elf smiled, and whispered in return, "I would like that. May we try tomorrow? Perhaps in the afternoon, if I had aid in walking. It has been long since I saw the sun through the leaves as I slept through the journey through Greenwood, and only truly remember the road through the mountains." A slight smile lit his lips for the first time since the two young elves had met under the most trying of circumstances and Elrohir thought that it immediately made an immense difference in the haunted, drawn features making them look alive once more when he saw Elrohir nod in agreement with his question. "I shall rest now then, so that I may have the strength." His eyes then closed, showing the depth that he was still injured, not necessarily physically anymore but emotionally. Elrohir saw this and slightly smiled to himself, pleased at the progress they had made that day, even though it had been trying on them all with the veils of rain that had poured over all their tired muscles, Legolas has spoken to him for the first time directly. He resolved to share the news with his brother later when they saw each other for the evening meal. Until that point, he decided that he should take the example of the prince, and lay himself down upon the cushions of the couch and drifted into the realm of elven sleep.

A pleasant golden light drifted through the air and landed on the loosely shut lids of the sylvan prince as he shifted slightly on the soft bed he had been given to use while in Imladris. He was pleased to find that the smallest movement no longer caused him the agonizing pain that had been the full reality of his life for what seemed for so long. He still felt the tightness of newly healed skin across his thighs, along with the pulling of still healing scars across his lower abdomen, but those were small in comparison to the dull yet persisting ache that he felt from the region of the worst, in his opinion, torture that had been committed by the orcs, the forced penetration of his anus with whatever it had been that they used on him. He felt it at each moment, the only relief being when he was asleep or drugged, but the worst of the ache occurred when he attempted to sit or when he needed to relieve himself, which happily did not happen very often recently. When he decided that he could not escape from the golden light, slowly his eyes blinked open to reveal the glorious light of day shinning through an open balcony door. He saw that he was alone in the room, for the first time since before he had been captured by the orcs he was completely alone, and his emotions were swirling. He felt panic rising in the thought that in his state of being unprotected he would once more be taken away only to be tortured once more, while at the same time being almost relieved at the fact that he was blissfully alone. Just as the panic began to override the bliss that he was feeling, two dark heads poked in through the balcony door.

"Good Morning, Legolas!" the figure that he knew to be Elrohir by his usage of the prince's true name as well as the slightly higher and lighter tone of voice, exclaimed with one of the brightest smiles the prince had ever seen. He then elbowed the mirror image of his brother in the ribs, saying, "I told you that he would awaken soon. You owe me!"

A smile lit the prince's face as he watched Elladan tackle his brother to the floor of the room, trying to wrestle him into submission while saying, "You liar! I made no bet with you about when he would come back to his senses! I agreed with you!"

Their ruckus stopped suddenly when a slight sound was heard from Legolas as he rolled onto his side to watch their rough housing. Elladan's mouth dropped in amazement as it dawned on him that the previously silent elfling was chuckling, if not attempting to full out laugh. Elrohir joined in his laughter as he rolled out of his brother's reaches as he walked over to the bed where he flopped onto the couch where he had slept through the previous night, including the meal that he had been supposed to attend with Glorfindel, Erestor, and Elladan. "You are in fine mood this morn, Legolas," he said with a wide smile upon his features.

Legolas shifted his gaze over to the younger twin and his still dull eyes looked as if they were regaining a small portion of the light of happiness that they must have previously held. With a smile he whispered, laughter hinting in the back of his still almost non-existent voice, "The sun is shining in my eyes for the first time in recent memory, its golden light giving an air of hope to the day." His stomach then made its presence known by growling loudly, sounding like a small animal had climbed under the covers with him.

Elladan jumped forward and began pulling the blankets off the bed, exclaiming, "Where is the kitten, Princeling? How did you get it in here? Did you sneak it past Elrohir while he was sleeping like a baby?" In return Elrohir threw one of the pillows off the couch in his direction, pegging his elder brother directly in head. This resulted in an amazing vault over the bed, not hitting the body of the prince in any way, to land on top of his brother, and began to tickle him mercilessly. Legolas's eyes watched the commotion, and his laughs began once more. They began as only chuckles and giggles that moved onto body wracking spasms. His mirth first brought the tears of joy to his eyes, which were then joined by those of pain as he worked his muscles harder than he had in a month, even though his laughter and mirth continued.

It was to this scene of chaos that Glorfindel opened the door in order to check on both the prince and his two young charges, and he was dismayed by what he saw. The first thing that came into sight was the tears in the pained eyes of the prince. He immediately separated the wrestling twins, scolding, "If the two of you must act so much younger than your age, please do so either in the out of doors or in your own chambers so as to avoid any injury to the prince here in his own chambers." He then began to drag the two slight elves that he had helped to raise towards the door to the chamber, feeling slightly confused as the prince continued to spasm on the bed, now holding his ribs with his left arm, the one that had been the least injured, of all of his limbs, in the fight and the successive torture. He immediately dropped both Elladan and Elrohir to the floor and rushed to the prince's side, worry rising in his crystal blue eyes. He immediately began to react in such a way as you would do to any patient that appears to be in the throws of pain, comfort them. He smoothed the copper hair back over his head, and spoke gently, "It will be alright, Prince Legolas, these two won't bother you any longer. Do you need something for the pain of your wounds? We can send for one of the healers." Confusion rose in his mind as the spasms only increased at his attempts to provide comfort to the obviously still ailing prince of Greenwood the Great.

One of the twins came forward and placed a hand on the ancient warriors shoulder, he was unsure as to which was the presence as his entire attention was turned on the obviously distressed figure on the bed in front of him. "It's alright," Elrohir spoke from behind him. "He's laughing." The blonde looked up at the figure of Elrohir with a look of skeptical curiosity, one of his sculpted blonde eyebrows rising up towards his golden hair line. "I'm serious!" the younger twin exclaimed as the look in the blonde eyes spoke of his state of unbelief. His gray eyes shifted to the prince who appeared to be calming somewhat from his state of almost paralyzing laughter. "Tell him that I am not lying, Legolas!" he exclaimed dramatically, sending another small wave of spasms through the wasted body. As he was still overtaken by laughter the elfling found that he was only able to nod his response as his giggles began to grow less and less.

The sight of this nodding in agreement assured the blonde figure that what appeared at first to be the shakes of intense pain, but now recognized that they were the signs of laughter escaping from his body while not letting the musical sound that was normally associated with elven laughter escape from his throat. The quietness of the young elf caused worry to rise in the heart of the caring ancient elf even while the worry that he had felt at the thought that the prince was experiencing intense pain decreased. His faced relaxed into a warm smile as he said, "In that case, it is good to see you in such a fine mood, Prince Legolas." He then stood and gave a warning glance to his two young charges, his look saying all that he needed to convey about his feelings towards their rough housing within the halls of their father's house before he walked towards the entrance to the room once more. When he reached the door he turned back once more and said, "I came to tell the three of you that you are invited to share the morning meal with Erestor and I in the family dining room. The food is expected to arrive in about half an hour, if the three of you would be kind enough to join us." The three young stomachs then growled in return to the mention of food and caused the three to dissolve into giggles once more and brought a slight smirk to the seneschal's face. "I hear that I shall see you all shortly, then," he said with a hint of good natured humor in his voice, before he actually exited the room.

Elrohir and Elladan gave each other a knowing look before they both approached the prince's bedside and sat down carefully, smiling at the young prince who was still shaking in random bursts of giggles. Elrohir put a hand on his new friend's left arm, and kept the smile on his face as he gently asked, "Are you ready to prepare for the meal? You can bathe and dress in fresh clothes that have not seen the dust of the road. I'm afraid they may be a little large on you as you are much smaller than either 'Dan or I, and we haven't had time to get you new garments as of yet."

"I'm not small," Legolas said in his soft whisper, a pout upon his still pale lips. After a moment his emerald eyes looked thoughtful and then he answered the original question softly, "I believe that I feel up to taking a bath." He then carefully began to pull himself into a seated position, hiding the ache that he felt behind the careful mask that he had learned to control while speaking to his father. He then began to shift himself so that his legs were hanging over the side of the bed that was closest to the bathroom, scooting carefully to the edge so that his feet on the floor, no longer able to suppress a wince at putting pressure on his still aching injury, which was now sending spikes of pain throughout his upper legs and abdomen.

At the sight of this wince Elladan jumped across the bed and put a hand carefully on the prince's shoulder, being careful to avoid the almost healed arrow wound that had been infected when he had been first examined by the healers in Mirkwood as the head and part of the shaft had been broken off in the wound which hadn't been discovered at first, but was quickly taken care of. "You need not do this alone, princeling," he said gently.

A pout appeared on the prince's comely features, as the arguments that highlighted all of his most recent conversations with his father. "I am not a child. I am able to bathe my self," he said as strongly as he could with his limited voice. He then tried to stand on his feet, but found the still healing muscles of his thighs were unwilling to keep his body upright, and forced him to plop ungracefully onto the bed once more, a groan of pain escaping from his lips, frustration immediately visible in his expressive emerald green eyes.

"We know that you are not a child, Legolas," Elrohir said gently, putting a hand on the uninjured left shoulder in a fashion that he hoped would convey not only some comfort for the prince but also understanding for the impatience that accompanies the weakness that follows the healing of major wounds. "Soon you will be able to rough house along with us and cause mischief and annoyance to both Glorfindel and Erestor…and possibly even Ada when he comes back from aiding your Adar." For a moment he remained where he was until he put a strong arm about Legolas's waist, pulling the prince's arm about his shoulder while his brother mirrored his motions on the other side of the injured prince. "Let us help you to the bathroom, then you can bathe and remove all the dust from the road, then we will rebandage any of your wounds that need it once again before you dress for the day."

They pulled him to his feet, carefully supporting him and yet allowing for him to take as much of his own weight upon his own feet as was possible for him, knowing that this would make him feel at least a small amount better and also aid his healing in preparing his muscles to cooperate with working in the way they would soon be expected too once more. They worked together to bring him into the bathroom, where Elladan began to draw the warm water for his bath while Elrohir helped Legolas to the edge of the tub that was sunken into the floor of the bathroom. It was at this point that Legolas froze, confusing Elrohir. The younger twin looked into the prince's eyes and was saddened to see that the freezing terror that had been missing the whole morning had once more taken hold upon the young elf's senses. Quickly he removed his boots and socks before rolling up the legs on his pants in order to stand in front of the prince, grabbing his chin in his hands and forced his face upwards to look him directly in the eye. "All will be well, Legolas. No one will hurt you here, the boarders of Imladris are well protected and no one enters without Glorfindel's knowledge, he is the captain of the guards and is alerted at once should any even possible threat comes within even a league of our boarders."

Much to Elrohir's dismay there was no answer from the prince, who had once more fallen into silence, seized by the memories of his torture. He then gently undressed the prince explaining every motion before he took it hoping to calm the prince once more in order to bring him back to the lighter mood that had ruled his senses so recently, and that with the humor the strength he had been feeling would return. He was dismayed when he saw that the white bandages around his abdomen were once more stained red where the forceful laughter of the morning had strained the few remaining slices that were still open upon his stomach, but the most upsetting fact was that Legolas had returned to the seemingly lifeless doll that they had seen in their days in the realm of the Greenwood. Elladan stopped filling the tub when it was only half full and then joined his brother in helping the prince the rest of the way into the water before they cleansed the pale skin of all the grime from the road. They worked faster when their clinical touches caused the prince to begin shaking, and Elrohir was saddened when he saw the silvery tracks of tears tracing down the prince's sunken cheeks. When they had finished aiding the prince with his cleansing, they once more helped him out of the tub before they helped him into a pair of soft, loose light brown pair of Elrohir's sleeping pants that were then rested gently against his hips in order to create the least amount of irritation to the sore skin of his thighs and abdomen. These pants were then joined with a dark gray shirt that was slipped around Legolas's shoulders and then wrapped and tied in the front. Elladan and Elrohir looked at the prince sadly when they saw that the loose clothing made him look smaller and younger than he truly was, but decided that the best way to remedy this problem was to help him down the hall to where the food was most likely already waiting for them along with both Glorfindel and Erestor.

The twins helped Legolas down the hall in the same fashion that they had helped him to the bathroom in the first place, feeling relief at the fact that his shakes that appeared to have come from terror had stopped and now he was silently complying, placing his feet one in front of the other even though he could not support the entirety of his own weight. They were pleased to see the dining room door had been left open as the food had been carried inside, and as such they could carefully sidling into the room sideways and walked him over to a softly padded chair where he was set carefully, settled in between the multitude of overstuffed cushions in order to relieve as much of the pain that he showed in sitting when they had gotten him out of bed that morning. Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at Elrohir as the twin turned away from settling the prince into the chair, silently asking what had happened in between the laughter he had seen in the laughter of the prince that morning, and the now silent, scared figure that he saw nestled between the colorful cushions. The younger twin shrugged silently in return to the silent question, and turned back to the prince with a small smile. "It's time for breakfast, Legolas. It looks like we have our choice of fruit filled pastries and actual fruit if you want that, and there is juice…ooo and look there are honey cakes! They are the best! Cook must have heard that we are home, since she only makes them for special occasions. Do you have a sweet tooth, Legolas?"

Legolas dropped his eyes to his hands that were laying in his lap, allowing the downward motion to pass for his answer as it was roughly half of a nod of his head. He silently wished that this feeling of hopeless terror would leave him, he had felt so much better when he had been in his bed with only the cheerful presence of the twins, who were only about a decade older than he, just past their majority. Now, he felt empty once more as he tried to push away his fear that had arisen when the twins had helped him to bathe. Having his body revealed, even though he knew that they had aided their father in treating him when he had been at the healing halls in his father's stronghold, reminded him cruelly of the torture at the hands of the orcs. He was old enough to know exactly what the orcs had done to him, and along with the ache that seemed so able to tax his slowly building strength, was an overwhelming feeling of dirtiness that he despaired would ever leave him in peace. How could any of these noble elves stand to be in the same room as he? They all looked on him with kindness in their eyes, but in his mind was the suspicion that behind all the kindness was truly pity, and the commands of Elrond and his father that were keeping them helping him, not the want to help him recover, or even to be his friend. He closed his eyes against the world, wishing that he could disappear within himself and not have to worry about what had been done to him so recently. He just wished that he could be alone to wallow in his feelings for just a moment, though he knew that would never be allowed until he had proven his strength once more, but when that would return was anyone's guess.

A strong, unknown hand was laid softly upon his shoulder, pulling his awareness away from his own mind back into the reality of the room, and he shifted his gaze until he was looking up into the seemingly endless depths of the crystal blue eyes of Glorfindel. To the young prince who had been surrounded his entire life by the sylvan elves and others who had never seen the light of the two trees nor the glory of the Valar dwelling in Valinor, this ancient elf before him was splendid. He seemed to glow with his own light, so that even if he was stuck in a place of darkness, he would not need a lamp to see by, but instead would light his own way with the light that was housed within his spirit. How he wished that he had this ability, then he would have no need to fear the dark, enclosed spaces in the caves of his father's stronghold, he would be able to find his way even when his torch went out, not cower in fear until the guards found him, huddled in the corner and crying with the terror he had so far been unable to overcome no matter the will of his father. Even though he felt unsure of himself in the sight of the blonde ancient, he was not truly afraid of Lord Glorfindel, he was more in awe and the light that shone from his spirit was warm and welcoming. It even seemed to wish to imbue him with the strength of his presence. He had seen the concern that Glorfindel had shown when he had thought that he was in pain when he had truly only been laughing at the antics of the twins, and that made him take an immediate liking to the elven lord, in opposition to the fear he had felt towards new acquaintances recently. He tried to swallow down some of the fear that had arisen after the lord had left his chamber that morning and quietly asked, "Did you really slay the Balrog in Gondolin? That is what my ada told me…"

A warm smile crossed the golden seneschal's face, his heart going out to the elfling in front of him, amazed his strength of spirit. He had an idea of what the orcs had put the small warrior through after seeing the scars upon the wasted body, the mere fact that he was struggling to survive and appearing to be succeeding rather handily at what he had set his mind to, already had earned the ancient elf's respect. He felt that when the young one grew he would be one of the best allies possible as well as a brilliant asset to his father's kingdom. The youngling's curiosity reminded Glorfindel just how young his new charge truly was in contrast to his experiences. Before he answered, he lowered himself down so that he could look the young prince in the eyes to add to the feeling of comfort and equality that he wished to extend to the ailing elfling. "Yes, my prince, I did truly slay the Balrog in Gondolin," he said gently, not wishing to frighten the young prince into silence once more, "Though I can assure you that it was not nearly as glorious as the minstrels tend to make it out to be." A slight chuckle then left his lips as he heard the prince's stomach growl loudly in response to the smell of the food sitting on the table in front of him. "I would be willing to tell you of my memories of both the battle and the city of Gondolin should you wish, but first I believe that you require a meal from the food that has been so kindly prepared in our honor. I agree with Elrohir, the honey cakes are delicious." With a smile he then put some of the food that he thought the small elf would like, based upon the preferences of the elflings he had been exposed to throughout the long years of his life, including a small pile of the honey cakes, knowing that they would help provide energy to aid Legolas in his continued recovery, and filled his goblet with chilled freshly squeezed orange juice.

He stepped back and took his own chair loading his own plate with food as he was hungry after his confusing interactions with the injured elf. The peredhel twins quickly followed his example and piled their plates as full with food as they possibly could, almost seeming to have a competition to see who could eat more of the prepared breakfast foods, almost seeming to increase their usual amount of energy in order to try to coax a smile from Legolas once more. Erestor drank his usual cup of tea while he munched on slices of apples while he smiled at the antics of his young charges, content to have their energetic moods lighten the atmosphere of Imladris once more. Their antics paid off when Legolas snorted into his orange juice at the sight of the two trying to see who could fit more grapes into their mouths at the same time resulting in making their cheeks puff out in the manner of squirrels or chipmunks. He then giggled once more as Elladan stuck a chunk of honey cake onto his brother's nose, just to see whether or not it would stay where he put it.

A/N: Phew! A long chapter, and not really the best place to break it, but it works. Let me know what you think! I can't improve if I don't get any reviews. I am even accepting of flames.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

Early Frost

Chapter 8

All to soon the 'quiet' meal was wrapping up, and Erestor and Glorfindel had to retreat to Elrond's study in order to handle the day's duties to keep the realm running smoothly for the day, leaving Legolas once more solely in the hands of Elladan and Elrohir. Elladan smiled at the still slight smirk that was still in place on the prince's pale lips, they had worked hard to put it back after the troubles that they had had when trying to clean him up. He then spoke up, "Well, we have the whole day ahead of us! What should we do first?"

Legolas looked a little uncertain for a moment, before dropping his eyes back down to his hands once more. He quietly said, "I would like to visit the garden that Elrohir mentioned last night, if it wouldn't be to much of an inconvenience." He then appeared to shrink in upon himself, as if preparing himself to have the promise that had been previously made broken.

Elrohir immediately exclaimed, "That is a fantastic idea, Legolas! Come on, lets get you up and then 'Dan and I can help you walk out there. It's in a very private place so no one will watch us walk out there and we'll be left alone. It's a beautiful day and the flowers will be in fine form after the rains yesterday." The twins then helped the prince to his feet once more, and Elladan kept him upright while Elrohir grabbed a warm cloak from the corner closet in the dining room, knowing that in his weakened state Legolas could very possibly catch a cold from the very slight breeze that was in the air. The group of three then slowly and carefully walked their way down the still quiet corridors of the mansion, and moved out to a beautiful garden full of flowers as well as trees. Elladan and Elrohir settled Legolas on a carved stone bench and made sure that the cloak was wrapped around him tightly in order to keep the chill away from him.

Legolas stared at the sight of the beauty of the garden around him, tears brought to his eyes as he was reminded of the small garden his mother had planted on the edge of the palace compound in the Greenwood, the exact garden that the orc attack had taken place in, for a moment, his mind was overcome with memories, and he began to shudder in horror. It was then that he began to look around the garden, overcome with paranoia at the openness that was around him. He was comforted slightly by the surrounding trees, strong sentinels that sang to him with their strong, soothing song speaking of the air and birds and joy at his presence as it had been long without contact with any of their cousin trees on the far side of the Misty Mountains. He sat slumped on the bench, slowly being overcome with the pounding of the ache coming from the still unhealed wounds within his body. His fear and panic began to rise as his eyes darted about the fair grove even quicker. Elrohir's sharp eyes caught sight of his agitation almost as soon as it began and kneeled in front of the bench, his movement catching the frightened emerald green eyes. "Do you wish to return inside, Legolas?" With a slight sniff, the prince nodded, fear overcoming his joy at the sights and sounds of plants and trees once more. "We could go into the library if you would like. It is an airy room with a multitude of books that you could look at, or we could return you to your bed if you would wish."

"I think that I would like to sleep for a while, if that is alright," the prince whispered, even softer than usual, barely loud enough to be known by any but himself, but luckily the twins were right there supporting him as they drug him once more to his feet.

"Rest sounds like exactly what would help you the most," Elladan said gently as they once more turned the prince's tentative steps toward his rooms. Their progress was much slower this time around as the prince had seemingly been drained of all the energy that he had possessed at the end of the morning meal. Almost resignedly they settled the copper-haired prince back into his bed and covered him gently with the warm blankets that were piled upon the bed, propping him up into a reclining position with the multitude of pillows at his dispense. When he was settled Elladan grabbed the pack that his father had ordered packed to bring with him to Imladris, and began to pull items out to set at the prince's bed side on the night stand.

In a beautifully carved frame was a portrait of the royal family that had been sketched in secret while they had dragged Thranduil away from his duties in order to have a family picnic, the happiness and joy lighting up all three of the elves' faces even upon the paper. There was also a horse figurine that had been commissioned by Thranduil as a naming day present for his son who had admired the kings chestnut stallion unashamedly, and thus was the sculpted horse a perfect model of the now deceased beloved friend, accompanied with this were several small colorful stones that he had found while wading in the creeks that ran through the palace gardens and underneath the trees that were so beloved of the wood elves. Hidden in the bottom of the pack was a scroll sealed with the official seal of his father, which he recognized immediately without even needing a good look at the green colored wax. Confusion rose in his eyes and he reached for the scroll with shaking hands, knowing it to be from his father. In but a few moments tears were running from his eyes as he clutched the paper to his chest tightly, sobs shaking his wasted body. Sensing that he needed a moment alone the twins retreated into the hallway for a moment, taking the time to embrace each other, drawing strength from the physical presence of each other after feeling the strain of having to support the prince in his recovery.

They looked up at the slight sound of boots upon the stone floor of the hallway and saw Glorfindel walking towards them with a devastated look upon his fair, golden features. "I'm assuming that our guest is within his chambers as he is not outside in Celebrian's garden, and I am finding the two of you lurking outside his chambers." They nodded in return silently, worried at the look upon his face, something must have happened to have shaken his normal calm so thoroughly. "Good, we have just gotten a message from your father. I am afraid that it was full of the most dire news." The two sets of storm gray eyes that were gazing at him intently widened in concern, and the same unasked question arose in both their depths. "Queen Alaryia has succumbed to the poison of the orcs."

"Shit," Elladan whispered, ignoring the fact that profanity was strictly outlawed in front of his mentors for the fact that all their work may be undone with the news they had known would be chasing their heels as they fled to the halls of their home and away from that of the prince's. "What should we do? This blow may be the final one that sends him over the end. If that happens, I don't think that his father will make it through life for much longer either, and then what will the Greenwood do?"

Glorfindel's despair filled features became set with determination as he soaked in the knowledge of what the elder twin had spoken. "I will tell him," he said, his voice full of dread, but his determination and concern clear to both Elladan and Elrohir. He then walked past them and through the door, only to be greeted by the sight of the already tear streaked features of the young prince, who looked up at him sadly at the sound of the opening door.

"Has it happened?" his soft voice asked brokenly. His grief rolling off his figure in waves. "Has my Nana passed to Mandos?"

With an inward sigh Glorfindel strode forward and sank onto the bed next to the young prince, wrapping a strong arm around the shaking shoulders of the copper-haired prince hoping to give him comfort with his presence. "I am afraid so, my prince. Although how you knew to expect it, I am at a loss to know." He looked at the prince's hands in which was clutched a piece of paper which the warrior deduced had been hidden in his belongings from his father. "Never mind," he said softly as he saw tears streak down the pale sunken cheeks once more.

He pulled his embrace tighter and turned the prince's face so that it was buried in his shoulder, relief flooding his heart as the elfling clutched weakly to him in search of strength. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Legolas's head before he began to stroke the silky hair with one hand and keeping the other arm wrapped strongly around his torso in support. He offered no words of comfort to the mourning prince, as he knew that no words he could say would to prince after watching many he counted as friends lose loved ones to the shadows, as well as having lost many of those friends to the shadows as well. Instead he sat with the prince in his arms, acting as a pillar of strength and a tie to reality as the tears and grief flowed out of the thin frame of Legolas, until he had used all of the energy that he had in his small body. Even then Glorfindel sat with the prince in his arms, knowing that the worst he could do in the elfling's uncertain state would be to leave him alone when he had been in the presence of someone prior to being asleep. He heard the soft breathing turn from the slightly labored gasps of one who had been sobbing brokenly to the more even pace of sleep, and cradled him for long enough to be sure that he had passed into a deep enough state of mind to lower him down to the pillows, having seen his discomfort at being seated at the breakfast table. He did not abandon his charge's side, instead he remained reclining on the side of the bed where he had been supporting Legolas earlier, and ran a hand through the coppery locks that were spread across the white linen of the pillows.

After a few moments of silence in the room he began humming to himself, beginning with just whatever melody was in his heart while his mind wandered, and then eventually beginning to sing various lays that he remembered from that of Lethian, to the Fall of Gil-Galad, and several pertaining to Gondolin, King Turgon, Eärendil, and his own battle with the Balrog, knowing that even if the prince at his side was unaware at his presence from the touch of his hand, at least he may recognize the sound of his voice. It comforted him slightly when after a few moments of singing the small elf turned tentatively onto his side and snuggled against the warm, strong body of the blonde warrior, and at some point shifted his head until it was no longer resting on the soft pillows, but upon his lap.

This was the sight that met the eyes of the peredhel twins when they peeked in through the door when they thought they had heard Glorfindel begin singing. There eyes were alight with concern for their new friend, but smiles lit their features when they saw the sweet scene. Their mentor was tenderly taking care of his newest young charge, thoughts in their mind of what a good father he would make if ever he decided to bond with a maiden. They kept their silence as they saw him raise a single finger to his lips, warning them to keep their silence so as not to disturb the prince's rest. Elrohir gave a slight wave and they then ducked from the room and ran to their father's study to find Erestor and see if the message from their father held any news other than that of the death of the queen.

As they were far away from the rooms where Legolas was resting they burst into the study with all their usual bluster as Elladan tackled Elrohir after he had beaten him to the door in a close race that had started but a few meters away from the heavy wooden doors. The oaken door slammed open, hitting the wall with a bang that startled Erestor from his thoughts, grabbing an elaborate letter opener that was laying upon the desk, before relaxing at the sight of the rough housing twins.

He rose to his feet gracefully, and walked over towards them, yet remained at a safe distance to avoid any stray blows from colliding with his shins. "I am certain that you are aware of your father's feelings about the two of you wrestling within his study," he said sternly, but with the bright glimmer of humor within his expressive steel colored eyes.

The sound of his voice broke the brotherly wrestling match up, and left both Elladan and Elrohir lying upon the thick rug that lay upon the floor just a couple feet inside the door of the cozy, welcoming room that was lined with shelves upon shelves of their father's favorite books as well as a comfortable couch and arm chair nestled neatly by the fireplace. They panted slightly after their energetic exertions while they looked up at their mentor with wide smiles upon their mirrored features. "The only way that he is going to find out that we were wrestling in his study again would be if you were to tell him, sir," Elladan replied cheekily, a wicked grin crossing his features as his brother nodded vigorously in agreement.

Erestor smiled slightly at this mischievous statement and looked down at the twins in an almost paternal fashion before saying, "I suppose that you are lucky then that I have no motivation for telling this to your father then. Although, it may be suitable to remember not to upset me before he comes back from the Greenwood or I may change my mind on the matter." He then walked back over to the desk to sit in its accompanying chair as the two young elves drug themselves off the floor with but a few parting shoves. He crossed his arms across his chest and reclined in the chair before speaking once more, "Now, what may I do for you? I assume that you have a reason that you have abandoned our guest that you were so protective of last night and this morning."

"Oh don't worry," Elrohir answered, "Glorfindel is with him. He was the one that chased us away. Last we saw Legolas had fallen asleep and was curled up against Glorfindel while he was singing to either the prince or himself in order to keep himself busy."

"We just came to see if Ada had sent a message for us along with the news of the queen," Elladan broke into his brothers assurances as he was sure that he was going to digress into some topic that was off their goal entirely.

"I am afraid that I am as unsure as you," Erestor said calmly looking back to the documents that were lying on the desk in front of him. "Glorfindel received the messenger, who immediately left once he had delivered the message. Once he had opened the envelope and read the missive just long enough to read the news of the queen's passing, he threw the papers onto the desk," he motioned to the document filled plane in front of him, demonstrating his point that the news was lost for the moment as there was no hope of finding any one piece of information amidst all the papers lying about on the wood. "This is the reward that I get for allowing Glorfindel to be in charge of organizing the documents at the end of the day for the past few nights. I am afraid that all of us must wait long enough for me to make at least some sense for his organization of this desk, and perhaps make it possible for us to see the polished oak. If I find what we are looking for before then, I will surely let you know."

He then went back to peering at the many documents, taking the time to read their contents and either took the time to fill out the forms or requests before filing them into a complicated system of organization. While they waited, the twins sank down into the soft cushions of the couch, their attention wandering as they both sank swiftly into the realm of elven dreams, still recovering from the tiring journey that they had just returned from along with the transport of the still ailing prince. Erestor saw this and a smile passed over his face at the sight of their innocent features that only truly became apparent when they were sleeping.

A/N: I know that this one is shorter than the last few, but it was a good place to break. Let me know what you think! Criticism is always welcome as it will help me to improve.


	9. Chapter 9

Early Frost

Chapter 9

_He was running through the dark. Heart hammering, and his lungs not able to take in enough oxygen as he panted, panic raising in his chest, trying to escape from the monster that was chasing him. He did not know what it was that was following him, not really at least, he just knew that he had to get away and get away quickly. "What are you doing? Why are you running away from your problems?" he heard a voice come through the darkness, but he couldn't tell just who was talking to him as he just kept running._

_In front of him appeared the figure of his archery instructor, only his normally calm features were twisted into a horrendous sneer. "Look at you, such a coward, my dear little prince," the words came out as almost an animalistic snarl, "I knew that you would never become the warrior that you told your father you would be. You will never account for anything. You are dirty and always will be dirty." Tears came to his eyes as he turned his feet so that he was now running away from the instructor, denying what he was hearing. His father was proud of him, as was his instructor. He then looked down at his hands only to see that they were covered with the black gore of orc blood that had been there after the desperate battle that he had had for his life and that of his mother._

_Now in front of him was the shadowy figure of the lord of Imladris, flanked closely by the figures of his two sons as well as the Lords Erestor and Glorfindel. They were laughing cruelly while they talked amongst themselves, cold smirks upon their normally fair features. "I can't believe that he actually believes that we care for him and want him to recover," said the cool voice of Elladan, which was greeted with the agreeing chuckle of his brother._

"_It is true," said Glorfindel, his normally warm eyes now turned to ice with his cruelty, "He is soiled, and everything that he touches becomes soiled as well. It would be best for him to just follow in the footsteps of his mother, then none of us would have to be bothered with him anymore."_

_Horror filled his chest at the hearing of these words, they couldn't truly feel this way about him could they? Why would they have done all that they had for him, dedicated weeks worth of their life towards his well being, if they felt absolutely nothing for him? _

_His rising tears stayed in his eyes as he turned away into a new direction, feeling desperation as his options were quickly becoming quite limited. His eyes widened as the next person he saw before him was his father. He ran towards him, throwing his arms around the strong body as he hung on as if he were the only link to sanity and life that the prince truly had. Confusion spread through his veins as his father stayed still and stiff in return to the hug. There was no response at all, no greeting, no anything, and thus he backed away from this odd figure in front of him. He then saw Thranduil as he was to the visitors such as the dwarves in the Lonely Mountains. He was dressed in his formal robes that cut him off from the rest of the world and the simple, yet elegant circlet that he wore as his badge of office, his normally warm green eyes taking on the cold glint of the gemstone that held their coloring. "Don't touch me. Do you think that I wish to be associated with one who is as dirty as you? How could you think that you would ever be worthy enough to be considered my son?" The cold eyes then took on the fiery glint of anger as silvery tears began to streak down the paling cheeks of the Prince. "You are pathetic. You couldn't prevent yourself from getting captured by the orcs who then spoiled your worth for the whole of your now pointless life. And on top of that failure you couldn't protect your mother in the least. Did you truly think that I would welcome you back with open arms when you have done nothing to earn my praise." Legolas drew back further away from the figure of his king, feeling unworthy to even think of the fact that this was also his father, if he was worthless as a son, then it only stood to reason that he would also be unworthy as a prince. "That is right,__** Prince**__, you should remove yourself from my presence. In fact, since you failed so spectacularly, it is best that you should just follow your mother. I no longer wish to be subjected to your presence." With that he turned away from the now sobbing figure of his son. _

_With no choice left, Legolas turned back towards the original direction that he had been running from, and almost immediately he knew the exact reason that he had been fleeing. He saw his mother as he last clearly remembered her, dressed in a pale blue gown with an arrow sticking out of her shoulder and blood pouring from the wound. She smiled at him, and he saw that her white teeth were covered with blood that somehow he knew was her own, and he shuddered when she opened her arms for him, silently beckoning him to come into her arms to join her. "Come here my Leaf," she said, the blood trickling from her mouth down over her chin as it could no longer be contained. "I wish you to come join me. I miss you, and it is only your right to come and join me so that I am no longer alone in my death." He backed away, and felt his body collide with that of his father, he could tell because of the cold hands that were pushing him back in the direction of his mother. "My dear, sweet leaf, there is no reason for you to be afraid of me. All I want is for you to join me so that we may be happy together, and you no longer need to bother your father, he truly is very busy and you would just be an inconvenience for him." In return to this he lowered himself to the ground and curled himself into a ball, covering his ears with his hands and cowering away from all the figures that were now surrounding him and murmuring in agreement over his worthlessness, and his being unclean and dirtied by the hands of the orcs. _

_The final straw came as he felt strong hands wrap around him and lift him bodily from his position, touching him in ways that reminded him of just how dirty he truly was. It was at this point that this person began to speak into his ear, it was the orc, "It seems that no one wants you any longer, garbage. They are leaving you to me so that I may show you your real value." He then began to tear the prince's clothes off of him violently. _

"_No…" came the soft whisper from the prince's lips as he felt himself revealed to the elements, the wind chill and biting on his pale skin. As he felt both blade and blunt once again his voice was torn from his throat in a loud shriek that was followed by the vocal yelling of the same word. He couldn't believe that he had to go through the same torture yet again, maybe he should do what all those who had cared for him, or at least had seemed to care for him, wanted him too…pass on to the Halls of Mandos instead of fighting against the pain of the injuries and memories to remain among the boughs of his beloved forests. His torture continued, wrenching more and more terrified cries from his throat and this time it did not seem as if the sweetness of blissful unconsciousness would come to aid him._

Glorfindel was pulled from his wondering thoughts when the small body that was still curled against his side in sleep began to clutch more tightly to him, as if to affirm the fact that there was someone there beside him, and that he was not in the process of leaving him. His concern for the slumbering mind of the prince rose when Legolas then did the opposite, pushing away from him and scooting back across the wide bed so that he was not touching the golden lord in any way, as his eyes flew open in what appeared to be terror, though they were still dull and clouded as if in sleep, and silvery tears began to trace down the sunken, pale cheeks. Glorfindel moved over to his side immediately and drew the small form into his arms, at which point Legolas went comepletely limp and squeezed his eyes closed as if to ward away the sight of what ever terror he was seeing within his mind.

If he had been struggling, the situation would have possibly made more sense to the ancient elf who had seen many examples of victims of torture at the hands of orcs, and even on rare occasions had to deal with being a victim himself, but this was the opposite of the normal response. Legolas should have been struggling against his arms, not acting as one who had given up as the tears increased in their flow down the elfling's cheeks. "No…" he heard the young prince's voice pass through the pale lips, louder than Glorfindel had heard the young voice issue forth, and he began immediately to try to rouse him from his sleep that was obviously less than the rest that was needed to aid his recovery.

This seemed to irritate the problem more as now he began to struggle against Glorfindel's hands with as much strength as he could muster, which knocked the caring hands away in an almost alarming fashion, which would have won him a one way trip to the floor had the lord not moved him back to the center of the bed, before a scream issued forth from the young elf's mouth, After the terrifying sound had ceased, the prince once more went completely limp, flopping without grace across the Eldar's lap, head lolling almost back to the mattress before Glorfindel could get his hand around to support it. Something told him that he was losing the prince as he saw the small flame of life inside the elfling fade further away from a state of healthiness than it had been at his arrival, and especially since his attempt at humor prior to the morning meal. Something more drastic needed to be done, and done quickly before he was lost to the Halls.

Carefully he drew the wasted body closer to his, rearranging their position so the elfling was lying flat on his back atop the body of the reborn warrior while he reclined against the headboard, with the coppery-haired head resting on his shoulder arranged so that it was resting against the side of his neck. He held the prince tightly, one arm around his shoulders, allowing the hand to rest over his heart and the other lower, just above his navel to avoid any of the still healing knife wounds that he had suffered, but at an angle so that his hand rested upon the bony hip of the elfling. He then pressed a kiss to the elfling's brow and closed his eyes before allowing himself to fall into a trance.

He felt the flame of his spirit increase as he focused carefully upon the power that he had found within himself at his rebirth. As soon as he felt that he had drawn in enough strength his spirit searched for the fading one belonging to the prince. In the aura of light that he 'saw' surrounding him, he knew the one place of darkness was that were the prince's spirit was residing, slight swirls of gray light now the only thing that indicated his spirit was in any contact with his body at all. Gently Glorfindel surrounded the prince's spirit with his own and began to send his light into the failing spirit, in a technique that he was truly uncomfortable with as it created a slight bond between the two spirits. It was at that point that he found Legolas's mind, and as he continued to pour strength and light into the elfling, their minds spoke in communion, beneath the same shadowed forest that Elrond had found him in the Greenwood.

"_Do not worry, my prince," Glorfindel said, keeping his voice as comforting as he possibly could, the warmth in the tenor encouraging the flames of his spirit to take hold in the prince's body. "I will help you to find your light once more."_

_Legolas lay curled beneath an ancient oak whose branches appeared to have grown in just the perfect way to protect the small body huddling against their trunk, the tears coursing down his face. Brokenly he stated, "Why are you doing this? No one wants me. I am a failure. I could not protect myself, I could not save my mother, and now I cannot even stay alive without aid. I am a failure, unclean and unworthy of any care or love. It would be best if I just fade away, it's not as if anyone would mind that I was gone…" He buried his face no longer in his arms, but now into the ground as if the light from Glorfindel was too bright for his eyes to handle and needed more protection than just his body could provide._

_Glorfindel felt the bond now forming between the young elf and himself deepen as his heart bled for the young prince. He gathered the small form into his arms and cradled him gently as one would a very small elfling, pressing soft kisses to the top of the coppery covered head. "Small one," he whispered gently, "I am doing this because yours is a light that should not fade from the world in such a way. I feel the need to give you a chance to learn of your own worth. You are no failure. Indeed you have shown such courage in the short time that I have known you, and I am sure you showed much more prior to our meeting, otherwise how would you have received all these injuries."_

_The small figure shook his head into the golden lord's chest, which should have muffled his voice, but Glorfindel still heard his words as plain as the light of day, "I am unclean. Anything that I love or touch will only come away as dirty as I am now…I will never allow myself to be loved by anyone because it would spoil them."_

_The crystal blue eyes widened for a moment in surprise before they closed in understanding of the sort of torture that the prince was speaking of, one that he understood all too well for one of the eldar remaining on the shores of Arda. He knowingly tightened his grip on Legolas. "Do not believe that what has been done to you has made you dirty, my prince, for that is far from the truth. Only your own actions can determine that. All this shows is your true strength as one with less strength and courage than you have shown yourself to have would have already faded by now, instead of the smiling and laughing young elf that I saw earlier this day." The only reply that he received to this statement was Legolas burrowing deeper into his grasp and he felt the tears soaking his formal tunic. "It will be alright, young one. I will help you through this. Lean on my strength and do not lose hope. I will stay by your side and help you through this. Have hope and know that though it seems dark now, the sun still shines and will light the way once more." _

_The prince lifted his head from the golden lord's chest and looked at him with his watery green eyes, haunted with the memories of all the memories. "Do not leave me," he whispered the plea brokenly before he returned Glorfindel's grasp in a breath stealing embrace and he repeated into the muscled chest, "Please don't leave me." He then seemed to fall into a sort of trance. Glorfindel took this as a good sign as Legolas's mind was no longer showing signs of trouble so he lifted him gently as he rose to his feet and found his way back to the light, exiting the shadowed forest. _

With that he opened his eyes once more, blinking several times to allow them to adjust as he saw the prince's guest room lit by several lamps and candles, giving it a warm, homely feel. The whole process must have taken longer than he had anticipated as he looked out the window to see the brightly shinning star of Eärendil, giving him a brief pang of homesickness at the memory of the hero as a child in Gondolin. He sighed as he returned his attention to the small elf that was still in repose upon his lap, and was pleased to see that some small amount of color had returned to the previously ashen complexion although he still remained far too pale. He realized that he had only won a small battle on Legolas's road to recovery and the war was far from over, but he was hopeful that with the aid of the bond that he now shared with the young one he would be able to continue siphoning strength into the ailing elfling in order to keep his mind focused on the future, not the shadows of the past.

He heard a sharp intake of air to the right of the bed and glanced over to see both Elladan and Elrohir sitting on the couch keeping watch over himself and Legolas, and he raised an eyebrow in question over their presence. Elrohir took it upon himself to answer the unspoken question and quietly, so as not to awaken Legolas, said, "We heard Legolas cry out, and ran here from Ada's study as quickly as we could. We found you glowing like a bonfire and in a trance that no one could break. Erestor went back to work to cover for your absence for the rest of the day, so 'Dan and I have been sitting here to make sure nothing went wrong."

Elladan rose from his seated position and left saying, "I will bring us all some dinner, I am sure that you at least are hungry, sir." Elrohir watched his brother leave, and once his mirror image had disappeared through the door and his footsteps were no longer clear in the air he shook his head. The golden lord looked at him, befuddled by the expression on the younger twin's face, and raised a sculpted eyebrow to express his confusion, knowing that if he were to talk, he could disturb the still sleeping prince, something that he was unwilling to do.

The first thing Elrohir did in return was to bury his face in his hands, a shudder running through his whole body along with the gesture. He then spoke, his voice muffled by the presence of his hands, and barely loud enough to be heard. "Elladan did not react well to what happened earlier today. When he saw you on the bed with Legolas in the healing trance that forced his feä to stay here, there was a time where he panicked. I have never seen him ever react that way to anything. It started with him freezing before he ran to the bedside and I had to restrain him from trying to pull you and Legolas apart. He fought me 'Fin, it was like he didn't even remember who I was." His voice then trailed off brokenly, which Glorfindel knowingly deduced was due to the tears that he had buried his face in his hands to hide. It was in this moment that the ancient warrior was reminded just how young the twins were, even though they acted much more mature due to the forced growing up they had faced with the untimely capture, torture, and death of their beloved mother. It explained the determination that they both showed in aiding Legolas in his recovery, they did not want to see the events of the past repeat themselves once again.

Carefully, Glorfindel unwrapped his arm from Legolas's shoulders, trusting the repose of the elfling to keep him from falling off his lap. He then made a clear gesture for Elrohir to join him, and wrapped the young twin in his strong embrace and kissed the crown of his head in a fatherly manner. Gently he whispered into the pointed ear, "I know how hard this is for the two of you. I am so proud when I see both you and your brother and the fine elves that you have grown into. You both inspire all around you with your actions and this is no different. We all need the chance to express our emotions and stress else the weight shall bury us, this is all your brother has done. He shall be fine, you will see. He still loves you, just as you still love him."

During the stream of his comforting words he felt Elrohir cuddle close to his side, wrapping the golden lord in his embrace to take comfort from, and he smiled when he saw the young one also include the young prince in his embrace as if to help support him as he had taken one of the strong arms away from his safe support, the younger twin's tears dampened his tunic, but Glorfindel soon felt their flow slow before stopping and the body relaxed as he fell into an exhausted sleep. Glorfindel closed his eyes peacefully at the shared warmth of the closeness of the two young elves, taking strength from their presence even as they drew upon his strength in return. He heard the door open once more and opened one of his eyes hiding the slight amount of irritation at the interruption to the quiet and comfort that he was feeling. His gaze was met with the figure of Erestor smirking at him from the doorway. He closed his eye once more to ignore the advisor's presence if he was going to refuse to enter the room the rest of the way to speak with him. He heard the soft foot steps come over to the recently vacated couch.

"You have now made this whole ordeal dangerous for yourself," the baritone voice of Erestor came softly from his side being careful with his tone and volume to avoid disturbing the two sleeping young elves. "I hope that you realize that."

"He was going to die," Glorfindel defended himself against the gentle admonition. "I understand both what this means and what he is going through, although we have yet to have been told what the twins know of what happened when he was captured by the orcs. I can be strong enough for both of us." He turned his head and pressed a chaste kiss onto the top of the prince's head.

The door to the chamber opened once more and the two elven lords looked up to see Elladan standing in the frame with a full tray of food in his strong hands a look of concern upon his fair features. "Is all well?" he asked with a distinct tone of sorrow in his voice, as he walked through the door and set the tray onto the table that stood next to the original position of the couch. His stormy gray eyes held both concern and the concentration that he held while trying to hold back the tears that were in them. Glorfindel saw this and, trusting Elrohir's grip on Legolas to keep him in place he removed his hand from Legolas's bony hip and beckoned to the elder of his lord's sons to his side and wrapped him in his strong embrace as the young peredhel mirrored his brother's position, adding his arms to keep the still sleeping prince in place. Elladan then also followed his brother's previous actions and sank deeply into sleep almost at once.

Glorfindel looked over to see that the advisor's smirk had widened into almost a real smile and he glared good naturedly at his friend at the expression. "We always knew that you were their favorite," he said with humor in his voice. He chuckled at the disgruntled look that passed over the golden warrior's face, before he became serious once more, which led to the questioning raising of a blonde eyebrow that seemed to be a favorite gesture of the ancient warrior. "I found the rest of the message from Elrond that you threw so carelessly amongst your mess of paperwork on the desk." Glorfindel nodded to encourage the advisor to continue. "It seems that Thranduil is taking the loss of his wife as hard as Elrond anticipated. He has talked to Galion, the Greenwood's steward, and they have agreed that the best thing for the king is to get away to deal with his grief. After the funeral, Elrond is bringing him here so that he may be with his son."

A look of unease came to Glorfindel's face as the realization of the king's famous temper of the king would be turned towards him when what he had done in making a bond with his son. "We will deal with that when we get that far. Until then our job is to continue helping in every way that we can. I cannot change what I have done now, and I would not even if I had the choice."

Erestor nodded at this sentiment, "I know, my friend. In light of this though, you should spend at least the next few days with our guest in order to make sure we do not have a repeat of this afternoon's events. I will not lie to you, for a while even I thought that we would lose the both of you as your glow faded. I have faith in your strength, but you are entirely too selfless at sometimes." A chuckle came from deep in his chest as the blonde seneschal tried to stifle a yawn without the use of either of his hands and he ruffled the golden locks, careful not to disturb any of the three young elves that were using his friend as a pillow, chuckling again at the glare that he was given at this action. "I will leave you to rest now, mellon. I will finish organizing Elrond's desk, and then will return to check on all of you." He then quietly retreated from the bed chamber, and Glorfindel followed his three charges into the realm of elven dreams.

A/N: Things are starting to look better for our young prince! What a relief. My thanks go out to daisymall13 for your continued reviewing. Until the next chapter, please review!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Still not mine, and never will be.

Early Frost

Chapter 10

Legolas blinked several times rapidly, disturbed from his repose by the golden light of the sun shinning through a window, heralding the coming of the dawn. He was confused as he felt warmth radiating through his body from under and around him, not just over him as blankets would provide. His confusion rose as he felt his upper body steadily lift up from the surface he was sleeping upon, and then lower once more before the action was repeated again, and again, steadily…almost as if what he was on was breathing. Then he felt something around his shoulders tightened, along with something that felt similar along his waist. At this feeling he squirmed, whatever was applying the pressure brushing against the still tender new skin, trying to get away from whatever was making the motion. The rhythm of the rising and falling shifted, and he heard laughter that reminded him of sun on the leaves come from beneath him. He started, turning his head to see Glorfindel's fair features. Unbidden a blush came upon the prince's face, and he attempted to draw away from the elder, only to moan as his muscles protested the quick movement, and the light started to slice through his head as he realized that he had the worst headache that he had ever experienced. He closed his eyes against the pain and buried his head once more into the joint of the warrior's shoulder and neck to hide away from the light. He then twisted his body around so that he could curl up into a ball while still on top of the blonde warrior and tried to contain his moan as pain sliced through his head when Glorfindel chuckled at his reactions.

The seneschal of Imladris then carefully unwrapped the twin's arms from the prince and untangled the both of them from the middle of Elladan and Elrohir, carefully clutching Legolas in his arms as he moved over to the couch where he lay him on the soft cushions. He sat on the floor after he had moved over to the window and covered the glass carefully with the thick draperies in order to darken the golden light to save the young elf as much pain as he could. With gentle hands he smoothed back the soft coppery locks of the prince speaking gently, only loud enough for the young elf to hear him. "It is alright, my prince. How are you feeling?"

Legolas opened his eyes, and Glorfindel was amazed by the depth of sorrow that was shown in the emerald green eyes. "I hurt, Lord Glorfindel," he said, his voice slightly stronger than it had been the day before, but with a softer tone in order to avoid more pain slicing through his temples. "But I am alive."

A gentle smile crossed Glorfindel's features at this admission. "I am glad that you are, penneth." He then glanced over at the bed where there was a soft rustling, and he chuckled when he saw that they had moved together in their sleep, and continued dreaming. He then turned back to the prince who had lifted his right hand to cover his eyes. With gentle fingertips he massaged the prince's temples, rubbing soothing circles onto the pale skin, and his smile widened as the prince moaned in what Glorfindel interpreted was relief from the pain. Glorfindel used this opportunity to force some of his strength into the still ailing prince. When the charming features smoothed into relaxation, he removed his hands and asked, "It has been a full day since you have had anything to eat, are you hungry?"

Legolas thought for a moment as his mind was brought back from the state of floating relaxation he felt at the skillful fingertips of the ancient lord, before his stomach answered the question before he could speak a single word. He smiled and shrugged uncertainly, "I guess I could stand to eat some." He then moved to sit up, almost concealing the wince at the ache that had returned to his lower body, only to find him being pressed back down by the same gentle hands. He looked at the golden figure questioningly, and made to sit back up once more.

Glorfindel smiled as he gently pressed the prince back down amidst the soft cushions. "Stay here, my prince," he whispered gently into the pointed ear, "I will bring you back some light food. It will do you some good to rest for a little while longer before you move around too much or you will risk tearing back open your wounds that are still paining you." He then rose to his feet, and put a hand on a shoulder giving a brief farewell before he left the room.

Legolas was then left with his thoughts, alone except for the two sleeping twins that were still oblivious to the world around them. He did not know exactly what to think about what he felt at that point in time. There was something that had been added since the night before, something that seemed to anchor him to life while he distinctly remembered his dream during which he knew that he had given up the will to live. He knew that the something had to do with Lord Glorfindel, but he did not know whether to be angry or relieved. He felt stronger than he had before, and yet with that strength, came the return of the aching pain, as well as the grief that was assailing his heart at the thought of his mother. The world appeared darker with the absence of the ancient lord, and he felt his senses dull as he burrowed himself into the cushions, allowing the blanket from the back of the couch to fall on top of him in order to feel some warmth against the chill that was sinking into his tired muscles. Slowly he felt his eyes slip closed, drifting back into the darkness of his mind.

Glorfindel walked back into the room with a tray of fruits, breads and honey, as well as several of the left over honey cakes that the prince had seemed to enjoy the previous morning, and gently put the tray onto the floor near the couch. He saw that the prince's eyes were closed once more, hiding in the cushions with the thick decorative blanket from the back of the couch lying over him. The seneschal smiled fondly at the small figure and sat on the edge of the couch and softly said, "Legolas. I have returned with your breakfast." His presence was unacknowledged. Legolas continued lying on the couch with his eyes closed, not a muscle twitching at his close presence. He reached a hand out to the only exposed portion of the prince's body, his face. He was surprised at the chill of the skin, and he tried to rouse the prince once more, calling to him both vocally and mentally. The pain and grief filled emerald eyes of the prince wearily blinked open, taking a few moments to focus on the golden figure in front of him. "I have brought you breakfast my prince," Glorfindel said gently, not removing his hand from its caress of the pale, sunken cheek of the prince, trying to send some of his warmth and strength through the prince. "May I help you to sit up a little so that you may eat a little easier." He saw the prince nod slightly, and moved to help him sit against the rearranged cushions. He was pleased to see that the prince sat with less discomfort than the day before, and he took that as a good sign that he was recovering. He then lifted a plate off the tray and filled it with the same foods as the day before and lay it on the prince's lap, silently encouraging him to eat his fill, and was happy to see that he began to eat without any more encouragement than that, slowly eating the entirety of the food that he had been served, even as Glorfindel also ate his fill from the remaining food upon the tray.

Legolas was puzzled as he sat eating quietly, splitting his attention between his food and Glorfindel, his thoughts continuing from earlier, even more confused. The darkness that he had seen in his vision at the ancient elf's absence was gone, replaced with a lightness that encouraged his determination to recover. When his plate was empty, he reached for the glass of water that was offered by the perceptive warrior and slowly drank it, savoring the coolness as it slid down his throat. He then returned the glass to the strong hands before sinking into the cushions that were supporting his body, feeling content for the moment.

Glorfindel saw this contentment and allowed a warm look to light upon his face, speaking up, "What would you like to do this morning, my prince?" Legolas looked at him with one of his eyebrows raised in confusion, unknowingly mirroring the same gesture that the Lord of Imladris used for the same purpose. "Erestor has released me from my duties for the day which puts me at ease to see to your pleasure for the entire day."

Legolas dropped his eyes to the intricate pattern of the blanket that was draped over his legs. "You do not have to spend time with me if you do not wish to, my lord. I understand that you are a busy elf, and I am but a convalescent that needs to be watched over. You do not have to waste your time with me," he said softly, the words of the figure of the mighty lord in his dream crystal clear in his sharp memory. Even with the expectation of rejection, he steeled himself for the words that he knew would hurt when they passed the graceful lips, and tried to make himself as small as possible.

Seeing this lack of confidence as just another clue as to the tortures that had been done to the small body, he shifted his position until he was sitting right next to the prince and put his arm around the small shivering body. "Never think that about yourself, my Prince," he said softly, yet forcefully, his tenor voice carrying the clear note of command. "You are worth more than you will ever understand. I am asking you what you want to do today, not because of anything that has been asked of me, but because I want to spend time with you. I want to help you to move past your experiences, and reach the point where they are just that, experiences that will make you stronger in the future." When he received no answer from the elfling he reached for the sculpted chin with his free hand and pulled the face over until he was looking the prince directly in the eyes, showing the young one the sincerity in his eyes. "I promise you, Prince Legolas Thranduilion, I have offered to spend time with you, not because of anything that I have been told either by my lord or his sons. I choose to spend my free time today with you because that is my choice. I wish the chance to know you." He remembered the words the prince had spoken as clearly as his own when he had used his power to help they elfling, and knew that he had a long way to go until the prince would trust his words. "Come, if you do not know what you wish to do today, I have something to show you that I think you may enjoy." He was pleased when the prince did not pull away from his embrace and chose to ignore his sink back into silence. He took the blanket and wrapped it securely about the still cold body and lifted the prince into his strong arms, allowing him to bury his head into his shoulder, anticipating the light that he would be exposed to and not wishing for the headache to return.

With swift steps Glorfindel retreated from the room with the prince and carefully avoiding the most populated portions of the house made his way outside and past the gardens until he reached a small single story cottage nestled into the forest with a small stone wall built around it and a fountain in the carefully groomed courtyard, its musical flow of water pulling the prince's face from where it was hidden. Instinctively he knew that this cottage must have been designed by the ancient, reborn seneschal as its entire design recalled an ancient time before both Imladris and its lord. Altogether it was elegant and had the prince wide eyed and instantly in love with the small home. "It is lovely," he murmured to no one in particular but the muttering brought a smile to Glorfindel's lips once more.

"Thank you," the seneschal said, "I thought that you would like it. I built this for occasions when I feel I must get away from the life of court in Imladris. I must confess that even though I have spent more than my fair share of time in courts during my two lifetimes, I find it trying." He smiled at the look of agreement on the prince's face and began to walk forward once more, entering through the picturesque wrought iron gate that was decorated with vines heavy with pale golden flowers. Once they had officially entered the yard Glorfindel asked, "Would you prefer to start inside or out? I leave it up to you."

"Can we start inside?" asked the small voice. "I don't want that headache to come back again."

Glorfindel nodded and quickly his steps brought them in through the door that was painted the same brilliant blue that was reflected in the water of the fountain from the sky and a bronze handle decorated with the same delicate flowers that were growing on the gates. He deposited the prince upon his favorite couch that was made of the softest material the wood elf had ever felt and allowed you to sink into the stuffing just like a luxurious mattress. He then moved towards an elaborately carved book shelf and pulled out a well used massive tome, before returning to the couch and sinking onto it next to his charge. He lay the book in his own lap and pulled the elfling into a strong embrace. "I remember you being interested in Gondolin at breakfast yesterday," he stated revealing the cover of the book to the prince who looked on with poorly disguised curiosity, and saw the famous crests of the Houses of Gondolin carefully tooled into the worn leather, so high quality was the work that the colors were even painted in their respective colors. "This book is full of sketches from my memory of my time in the Hidden city. I thought that you might like to see them, as well as hear about them."

The rest of the morning was spent in just that way, the gentle turning of crisp pages of the book while Glorfindel explained them as well as told entertaining anecdotes that had occurred in the places as well as his favorite memories of his friends. Much time was spent on his best friend, Ecthelion, the Lord of the House of the Fountain, and on the figure of one Laiqualassë, from the House of the Tree, whose picture bore a striking resemblance to the Greenwood's prince. Glorfindel explained to him this was because his mother had been the Great Granddaughter of the exalted elf that had since found his way to the Halls of Mandos. The hours passed and yet only allowed for the viewing of about half the amount of sketches and showed Glorfindel that the prince still had a light for life that was required for his continued living. Now that he had seen the prince's curiosity and intelligence it was his next goal was to try to coax him into sharing his memories.

The time for the midday meal came and was met with a knock on the door, which was answered by the seneschal and revealed to be Elladan and Elrohir standing with a basket full of picnic food. The noon meal was spent within the strong stone walls of the yard of the cottage with friendly banter from the twins that at several points regressed into brotherly wrestling matches in the soft, thick grass. Laughter was shared along with the finely prepared finger foods and sandwiches that had been prepared by the cooks for their pleasure. At the close of the meal the jovial, energetic twins waved farewell with apologies that they duties they had to fulfill been neglected for far too long, leaving Glorfindel and Legolas alone once more.

A soft smile lit the Lord's features as he saw the prince trailing his fingers in the cool, clear waters of the fountain. "Would you like to stay outside for a while, my prince?"

"Legolas," the prince said softly, uncertainty returning to his voice, just as it always seemed to when he spoke of things concerning himself.

"Pardon?" Glorfindel asked in return, unsure of the exact sentiment the prince was trying to express.

"My name is Legolas," he answered even more quietly, his voice losing any confidence that may have been hidden in his original uncertainty. "Prince is just my title, I would rather be known by my name, not because of my station of birth."

Glorfindel place a hand on the slumped shoulder of the prince and smiled gently, once more turning the thin face to his own. "I understand. I will call you by your name only if you agree to call me by mine, without the addition of Lord in front of it. I repeat my question from before. Would you like to stay out of doors for a while, Legolas?"

"I would like to if that is alright," Legolas answered, his tone of voice not changing in the slightest from his previous statement and he sank into the fetal position at the base of the fountain.

Glorfindel joined him on the ground and pulled him once more into his strong embrace. "I wouldn't have offered if it would not have been alright for you to choose to stay outside, little one." He sighed deeply as he looked at the cheery surroundings for a moment before he lowered his voice, "Perhaps it is best that I tell you my next story while we are in the sun. It will at least lend an air of hope to the telling." The prince looked at him questioningly. "I must confess that I truly do have another reason for wishing to help you through your experience, but in order for you to truly understand all of those reasons I have to tell you a story that will hopefully explain." He looked deep within the sorrow filled eyes of the prince, and was saddened to see the deep hurt that was within the emerald depths. He pulled his embrace about the prince's shoulders tighter trying to pass along his sorrow at having to share the story that he must.

Legolas looked at him, trying to hide the hurt that he felt at the hidden agenda of the golden lord. He thought that he was being so kind out of a genuine wish to help him, not because of some hidden reason that he was sure must approach the same words that were spoken in his dream, those of duty. "I will listen if you feel you must tell me." he said, his voice small, and uncertain, he didn't even know whether or not it was his right to give the ancient lord permission for something that would happen whether or not he wanted it too.

The smile dropped off Glorfindel's face, and he peered off at the flowers that he had taken the utmost care of since their planting after the founding of Imladris, his mind becoming lost in memories. "By the end of my tale, I hope that you understand my reasons," he said gently, before he began the telling of his tale, beginning haltingly at first, but his voice growing more confident in the telling, especially at the attention that was shown by the elfling at his side.

A/N: There you have it, Chapter 10. Next will be Glorfindel's story. As always, drop me a line and let me know what you think! I have had a distinct lack of reviewers and it makes me feel as if no one is reading this. Please!


	11. Chapter 11

_Long ago in the forests of Beleriand was a small cottage made of stone where there lived a small family of elves. The father, mother, eldest son, and daughter had made it alive across the Helacraxë, following Finrod, who had been following the Fëanorians, and had promptly not wished to stop the bloodshed that they had seen at the hands of Morgoth. Soon into the small family was born a second son, named in the traditional method of the Noldor by his father, and grew into a fine young elfling. All the façade of happiness and peace fell shortly before he reached the age of his majority._

_The peace of the woods was shattered by hunting parties of orcs and other, more fell creatures of the enemy, the golden light was dampened by horror. All this was not understood by the young elf who had only been raised under the hope of peace, and he continued, a ray of hope to those who saw him. This hope was not to last, however as the small community that surrounded the cottage under the bright leaves of the wood was attacked by the creatures of the darkness. The fighting was fierce, even when compared with the major battles of the age, but the result was inevitable, all the warriors, as well as those among their numbers that had been to Valinor were slaughtered, leaving only a few of their youngest numbers alive, captured and at the hands of their captors, helpless. _

_One by one the orcs chose their victims and tortured them until they had no more strength or hope and they willingly passed from the circles of the world. And yet the elfling, the smallest and most innocent of his comrades, remained hopeful and full of the light of youth. He lay in their clutches, surviving only on moldy bred, and a horrid draught that was forced down his throat daily, it scorched the sensitive flesh, yet forced energy back into his quickly weakening muscles. The circle of elves grew less, and the others began to be easier to torture to their ends, and still the small elfling remained hopeful, the tales that his father had told him full of the shining armor of the elves, their bright swords and the sun glinting off their helms as they beat back the forces of orcs and shadow creatures that had threatened them. these stories kept his hopes alive, even as the loss of his friends sliced daggers into his heart, he held on to the hope that one of the great lords of the stories would come riding to their rescue. _

_The time finally came when he was alone, the last of all those he had ever known left alive, and yet still at the mercy of the orcs, no one had come. It was then that the orcs delighted in their game once more. He felt the burn and slice of the whip, several kinds of them, in fact. He felt the burn of acids as well as various poisons, which he was only given the antidote to when their affects had brought him to the very brink of death, before being forced to drink still more of the orc draught, forcing him back to a very false strength, and yet he clung to life. They grew more and more creative in their ways of torture, careful to push his limits, and allowing him to come closer and closer to the doors of death, and yet his hope remained. Then one day dawned, the sun shrouded in clouds that kept the warmth of its rays far away from the elfling's skin, and yet was bright enough to pull him away from his light reverie. He looked up to see a singular orc approaching him, nothing visible in his hands, and yet terror was struck directly to his heart at the lack of the armor that was generally worn by the orcs, all others seemed to be busy with things around the camp and of course there was a percentage of them on watch, knowing that they were in a forest that was well known to be trafficked by elves. _

_By this point both the orcs and the elfling had learned that they did not understand each other, and thus the only way he knew what was happening was by the implement the orcs were carrying, the unknown was what made it the worst, denting the slowly waning hope in the young one's heart. His hands were tugged up from behind his back, and yanked above his head without first untying them, a wordless yell passing his lips as the motion wrenched his shoulders out of position, audible popping as they were dislocated. He then was forced onto his stomach and forced brutally from behind. The pain was worse than anything he had ever felt before in his life. He felt as if he were being split in two with each dry thrust and this was only intensified when burning liquid was released into his abused channel. The orc then collapsed on top of him with a groan, but by that point he was almost senseless and as such, only took the action as one more on top of what he had already undergone throughout the course of his torture. His vision began to blacken as he passed into unconsciousness, when the sound of horses and battle sounded through the air._

"When the elfling woke again he was in a different location and thankfully no longer surrounded by orcs, but by elves of the most noble nature. The forest was on the path between Nevrost and the orcs created such a ruckus as to attract their attention in order to do away with the disturbance as well as the presence of the shadow. The elfling was taken with them, adopted by the Lord of the Fountain and raised amongst his household." Here Glorfindel's voice faded away, the look in his crystal blue eyes was far away, his mind lost in the agony of the memories, and his arm falling away from the hold he had on the prince, wrapping around his long legs as he curled in on himself, the sun the only thing that had his mind anchored in the present against the hopelessness that he felt at the extended retelling of some of his earliest memories.

Legolas sat there in silence, allowing Glorfindel to have a moment of peace, disturbed to see the tears running down his face mirrored on the strong face of the elven lord. Immediately his mind put two and two together, the elfling from the story was not a nameless acquaintance that he had met in Gondolin, no, he was the elfling. Carefully Legolas put an arm around lord's middle and hugged him, just as the lord had done to him for comfort and strength so recently. With this single gesture, he expressed his understanding of the unspoken identity of the elfling in the story. He whispered gently, "I understand, Glorfindel. Thank you." He then buried his head in the strong chest and cried. His tears were for not only himself and what he had lost, but also for Glorfindel

.

Glorfindel heard the gentle words and felt the tears of the prince as they soaked through his thick golden locks. He turned in the embrace, and wrapped his arms once more around the prince, allowing his tears to soak into the copper locks just as the prince reciprocated the action. The two sat there in the golden sunlight pouring out their tears and shared grief while the music of the fountain's water provided the background to their tears. Through his grief, Glorfindel realized that the tenderness and kindness that was shown in the heart of the young prince showed the same hope that Ecthelian had seen in him under similar circumstances. When they had both shed as many tears as their bodies could, Legolas pulled back from the embrace and looked down at his lap saying uncertainly, "I am sorry that I doubted your intentions earlier."

A gentle hand ruffled the coppery locks accompanied by a warm chuckle from the still slightly teary eyed Glorfindel. "It is alright, Legolas. I understand the thoughts that I am sure are going through your mind, and it is alright. They are normal, you have no need to apologize for them." He then pulled back and lifted the prince's chin so that the blue eyes locked with emerald, before he continued, "I am not going to say that I know exactly what you are feeling as I know that is not true and I will not pretend that it is. I will however be here for you if you decide that you wish to talk about anything, and also to help you to move past the torture." He then smiled gently, "Now, I know that all of this has made me hungry, I am sure that it is almost time for the evening meal. What say we head back to the House of Elrond and we can eat with the twins and Erestor? It will promise to be at least mildly entertaining."

The prince smirked slightly in return and nodded his agreement before he picked himself back up off the ground, stretching sore muscles. He held his hands up in denial when the seneschal moved to lift him up in order to carry him back down the path. "I must use my muscles or they will whither away and I will have to start all over with my training." He then looked at the ground and muttered to himself, "It will take me enough time to retrain as it is, if Ada will ever let me train or join the guards ever again…"

Instead of picking him up, Glorfindel placed a hand on the slim shoulder, and smiled gently, "I will speak to your father if being a warrior is what you wish to do with your life. He will not truly be able to object as he also is a trained warrior against the wishes of his own father. He also needs to have some time in which to grieve for your mother, and of course he will set up a few tests at least to assure himself that you are ready to face the dangers of battle once more. Although from what little I have heard of your fight when you were wounded, I would be glad to welcome you among the ranks of our warriors if you should ever choose to leave the Green Wood in favor of Imladris." Here he inserted a chuckle to signify the fact that he was joking before he nodded in the direction of the manor. "Come, we will go have our meal."

The two slowly made their way back down the path to the house and through the main halls of the manor, as Legolas was walking alone and would not take a blow to his pride if any would spy them on their way. The elves that they did meet spoke words of greeting to the both of them, as well as wishes for recovery to the still very pale and plainly ailing elfling that stood close to their beloved seneschal in order to avoid the majority of contact with the unknown elves. The young prince sighed in relief when they walked through the door of the dinning room, and he sank into the comfortable cushioned chair that he had been settled into the previous morning. Glorfindel smiled at the look of relief that passed over the elfling's features and turned when he heard the door burst open once more, rebounding off the wall as the twins burst in to the room. Energetically they rushed over to see Legolas, who smiled at their enthusiasm and joined them in conversation, far more readily than he had previously, although many of his answers continued to show his lack of confidence and his uncertainty. Erestor entered the room after the twins, almost silently in comparison and smiled when he saw the young elves interacting.

"He seems to have improved with your time together," the advisor observed when the prince's face was graced with a smile accompanied by a laugh at Elrohir hitting Elladan in response to some thoughtless comment that he had said. "Perhaps there is more hope than I had thought."

"There was always more hope than you thought," Glorfindel muttered under his breath before he smirked at his friend and answered, "Perhaps this will teach you that there are points in time that I do know what I am talking about." He saw that Erestor was looking at him skeptically as he caught the muttered statement faintly. He dropped his eyes and shook his head warningly, "Just please, Erestor, leave it well enough alone."

Knowing when to and not speak was one of Erestor's most valuable skills as an advisor and he knew that this was a point that he should employ that skill, knowing that otherwise Glorfindel would retreat within his own mind and lock himself away from the rest of the community. He nodded before he approached the three elflings and took his own seat at the table with a small smile upon his features. "Let us enjoy our meal with some semblance of peace, please," he said, his dark eyes glittering with humor, letting the young ones know that he was joking, for the most part at least. They quickly, and willingly dug into the fabulous food, even Legolas, who found that his appetite was returning after the weeks that he had spent eating just enough to give him the strength to continue his slow healing. The conversation was pleasant with the prince contributing far more than he had the day before and was showing signs of fighting back against the grief and pain that had been assailing him and threatening his life.

There was a knock upon the door about half way through the meal, and Glorfindel was instantly upon his feet and at the door where there was a short, quiet conversation between the two figures before the Seneschel returned to his chair. He saw the questioning features upon the faces of both the twins and Legolas and decided that he would explain as the news that Lindir had brought him. "A party from the Greenwood has been sighted about a league away from the border. The border patrol will bring them in when they get that far and we will all greet the party as I expect both Lord Elrond and King Thranduil to be amongst their numbers."

Legolas's eyes widened when he heard that his father was expected to be arriving in Imladris, but his surprise was covered when the twins exploded in their excitement at the return of their father. They then began to wolf down their food at an even faster pace. When Erestor saw this he raised an eyebrow at this and instructed, "Slow down, it will not make your father reach our boarders any faster if you make yourselves ill." The two then slowed their pace once more and they all focused upon finishing their own food and thus they did not notice Legolas retreat back within himself, the words of the specter of his father in his dream returning to the front of his mind.

An hour later found the five of them standing outside the front entrance of the mansion waiting either patiently, impatiently, or worriedly. Glorfindel saw the look that bordered on terror on Legolas's face, and pulled him into a supportive embrace. He then looked deep within the emerald eyes, and was worried when he saw the sadness that had lessened through the afternoon had returned to their gemlike depths. "What troubles you, Legolas?" he asked gently, just loud enough for the prince to hear his question.

Legolas buried his face into Glorfindel's shoulder and took a moment to just soak in the strength that was being offered to him. "I feel as if I should run, Glorfindel," he murmured, "Ada is upset with me, I know it. This is all my fault, if I hadn't disobeyed him in the first place, Nana would still be here, and Ada wouldn't have to deal with the shame of having a dirty heir."

Glorfindel pressed a kiss into the coppery hair and smoothed the locks back gently. "None of this is your fault, Legolas. I cannot say that I know what would have happened if you had acted in a different way, but there is a chance that worse would have happened, most likely to those who live near your home. If I know your father in the slightest he will be more relieved that you are still here than upset at your previous actions. Do not be too hard upon yourself until you have talked to your father, and even then, the fault lies with the shadow. When you begin to doubt yourself, remember the story I told you." He was content to feel Legolas nod his head as he soaked in the wise words and then he pulled back and offered a small smile to show the lift in his spirits right as the call went up from the guards to signal the arrival of the guests.

Glorfindel rose to his full height and stepped forward with Erestor to give their most formal greeting to their guests. This motion was ruined as Elladan and Elrohir ran forward and tackled their father to the cobbles of the courtyard. Legolas stepped forward hesitantly, catching sight of the imposing figure of his father, after the momentary hesitation, he ran forward into the open arms that were beckoning him. The father and son then sank down to the cobbled courtyard and shed their tears together, signaling their steps towards their eventual recovery, along with the healing of relations between Imladris and the Greenwood. As the Healer, Advisor, and Seneschal looked upon the grieving pair, they say that they would recover, living if only because of the love they held for each other.

The End

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A/N: There you go. This chapter of the story is completed, and just in time too! If I have time, I will post the first chapter of the next story in this series this weekend, but as of Monday I will be leaving for New Zealand (that's right, everyone that is stuck in the ice and snow of winter be jealous) and won't be able to update for a while. Until then, enjoy, and please let me know what you think!


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